Mr. Cynical fights ignorance in his own lil' way

I couldn’t decide whether to post this in GD or MPSIMS, so mods, do with it what you will. Just edit these two sentences out when you do it, Mmmmmkay?

Last night, I came to realize that I can do myself a service, and at the same time do my part in the fight against ignorance.

After watching a friend play in a band, and comparing his incredible talent against my incredible lack thereof, I came up with this course of action.

Tonight, at some undetermined point, I am going to attempt to sell my soul to the Devil. I’m offering a good soul, with decent characteristics, for eternity. All I ask in return is to be a fantastic guitar player within a week, and for the perks that come along with it. Among these perks are: Money, fame, creativity, and happiness.

If, for some reason, the dark one does not satisfy these demands, it will be because there is no heaven, no hell, no God, no Devil. The Devil would be a moron to not want me, much like several women I could name were morons for not wanting me. This is an undisputable truth.

So, my first action will be to find an effective script for soul-selling. Perhaps the Satan that frequents this message board could be so kind as to provide a reference, or a link. I found this website, but I found it to be rather campy. I applaud the sentiment, but doubt the veracity.

As a special note, I will not listen to Marilyn Manson, regardless. If that’s requirement for damning myself to hell for eternity, then the Devil can just kiss my ass, right in the middle.

What makes you think I am in the soul business these days? Dude, get with the times!

I deal in MP3’s now…

And even then he only pays a buck.

Your first problem (if you are serious, that is) is that there is no Devil. Also no Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, Great Pumpkin, Papa Smurf, Mother Nature, and a few other mystery men and women.

My understanding is that I am Satan in the morning.

Try and make a deal with me before my first cup of coffee.

Okay, the deed is done. I even put a drop of blood on the contract (I had a nosebleed, quite conveniently.)

Tonight I’ll be going out, and we can make the first test of the contract.

…you could end up with the record sales, and the fame, and have him stiff you on the talent.

He did it to Michael Bolton.


The Devil had a whole weekend to pull through on his part of the deal. I picked up my guitar this morning, and I’m no better than I was on Saturday.

Thus, I have decided that The Devil does not exist. I guess I can be as morally corrupt as I wish to be now.