“And that's so bad, is it?” Harold pursed his lips. “Look at all these...” He hesitated to say the word people when some of them had no head that he could see and others had more than their share, “denizens.” He raised his voice slightly for the demon to hear it above the hubbub of voices, catcalls, jeers and, unsurprisingly, sobbing. “It seems to me that the place could do with a little order.”
The silence was so sudden it would have been possible to hear a pin drop. On a shagpile carpet. Harold had no idea why they'd installed shagpile carpet in a high-traffic retail and customer service outlet but this was Hell so who was he to judge? Other than the sobbing, which reminded him again of the Apple shop, the only sound was that of a hundred or more eyeballs swivelling to face him. Muted whispers of “Is that a mortal?” and “Pah! Stupide Anglais.” began as a distant surf and gradually increased in volume. A demon with eyestalks like Sefskapoi and a figure like Julie's after she was horribly burned raised an arm to point at him.
Jasfoup took a step backwards. “He's not with me!”
“He ca' in wi' you. I saw you.” This from a man with no skin who weeped blood and plasma from every part of his body. It took Harold a moment to work out what he'd said. The lack of lips made his words sound truncated.
“Coincidence, surely?” Jasfoup held up his phone. “I just came in for a repair”