"So I told the young lad that if he wanted to be taken seriously, he could start by paying for a legitimate business license!" the old coot rambled much to the tepid applause of his cohorts. The devil sat there, a sniff of amusement crossing his face as the man finished his story of 'educating' some member of the lower social class on the proper use of paperwork.

A dreary as listening to dry paper at a standstill.

While he hadn't been paying attention to the story, it was more how ironically pleased they were all in being as utterly useless as possible, telling a poor child selling what few scraps of merchandise he could manage to go and apply for a business license, is tantamount to throwing the same child into the jaws of a lion or angry sea predator, with the only difference being the expediency of his immanent demise Because a predator cannot afford to savor his meal as he consumes it, lest it is taken from him. Not so with the sour and insidious creatures living in a clerical office, like a great wine press of misery for thirsty, well, Devils.

Human's, they try their best, and sometimes they succeed. Other times it makes Hell look balmy in comparison to some of the fates they induce upon themselves. Were he more of their mindset he might say something dismissive or flippant like 'Ah youth,' or 'Someone ought to teach them better,' or something like that. He might've even said such things in the past, but nowadays he'd rather just mock them for their stupidity after watching for so many thousand years. Busy Bodies, the cockroaches of humanity. Never will there be such a plague as these in existence so virulent and persistent as the virtuously self-absorbed.

"And what of you sir? What virtues and contributions do you intend to enact as a member of this fine establishment?" some corpulent waste of flesh pointed to him. The Devil looked to mock surprise, the man motioning to him had finished his story and now desired to hear one from a fellow compatriot. With a heavy sigh, the Devil spoke, soft like a whisper to begin his tail.

"It was, not so long ago" He began "That I was to give witness in court." He could feel their eyes on him for sure, louts in cheap tailored suits, hungry for another story of their so-called virtues. "I had recently found it in my charitable spirit to raise a man from debtors prison, and try to set him right on the path of a virtuous working man." Not a total lie, but the language was certainly flavored to the crowd, they lapped it up, the sick dogs.

"I saw fit to send him off to work in a paper mill, a friend of mine owns it you see, and there he worked for a great long time. But I was not prepared to have to defend my actions, from a shrew of a woman claiming to be the man's estranged wife." A tepid murmur of shocked disapproval and 'harrumphs' echoed through the smoking room. "And so, I find myself having to once more defend the nobility of charity from the common greed that consumes so much of our public body, as the cheap floozy began to spew utter nonsense in hopes of perching a payment from this now honest man's purse. Abusing the public courts to do so. "

That was a lie, she was the man's wife, but it wasn't money she was after. It was divorce, having been separated from her drunkard husband she'd found companionship in another and wished to sever ties with her former abuser. All for the best, something I'd normally have nothing to do with, yet the court came a calling anyway. Seeing as it was a Public proceeding, the idea of a captive audience drew my attention more than the case itself. Back to fleecing the rubes though, "And so I made my appearance in court to enlighten the unrightfully ignorant masses as to the factual nature of the conflict. A man accosted by a greedy woman only after money." The smile crossing their faces was like staring into a plaster death mask, ornate but made for cheap and concealing the decay beneath. "It was a trivial matter to send her on her way, I pray we never see the likes of such brazen criminal females again, though I suspect that would bring fire from heaven in the same manner of Sodom and Gomorrah." The was a vacant choir of laughter, devoid of mirth beyond the superficial. I suspect they might not have laughed so hard if they knew the depth of my contempt for their ilk. And I'd scarcely gotten to know them.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Some days, being a devil was its torment.

As they laughed and joked among themselves as to the nature of the 'female problem' and purposing nonsense solutions of fancy, I stood to dust myself off and survey the true point of interest in this place. A solitary table in the corner was occupied by three women, an older woman who looked sharp as flint and hard as steel beneath her aged exterior, and what one might take to be her daughter or granddaughter beside her. A young but equally cold-looking creature of harsh beauty. While not one for human indulgences myself, the presence of the third woman, a perpetually bored-looking blonde almost too big for the chair she was crushing, was a stark contrast. The contempt held between all three was like that of hawks scanning for prey as I approached.

These women were not like the rest, and by process of elimination, that made them the most interesting thing in the room so far. Now, to those young men who might've asked me the key to a successful introduction to a woman, the answer I would give him is this, Scorn works faster than Charms and lasts for longer. Human minds are carefully balanced such that one remembers their enemies far longer than even their most beloved family. A lover must fight for a position in the partner's mind, an enemy resides there already. On this, I staked my approach.

"Madam" I submitted, I had their attention, now for their ire, "is your husband about? I was told he would be here."

With a speed even Demons would find impressive, the room seemed to tilt like a platter as I succeeded in drawing the subtle but unmistakable wrath of these three creatures masquerading as the fairer sex.

"My husband" the young woman, eyes like a glacier in the grim night, "is not my master, nor my jailer." The older matron beside her seemed pleased by this as if she were watching a protegee enacting the carefully chosen lessons she'd imbued them with. "And besides that," the younger woman continued, "He has recently passed." She said. Putting her nose in the air with an imperious sniff of disdain.

Now that was curious. I had to push further. "Oh, then why do you not wear the black veil and sackcloth of mourning? Or-" I feign a gasp of offended shock "Was there some dark pathos to his passing?"

Where I mortal and fearful for my life, the sheer force of disdain and malignant powers rolling off this woman and her matron teacher would have killed armies of men. T'was the matron the spoke next, drawing the attention of the two away from me for a merciful second, but only in such that she could land a blow for herself. "Now my dear, It was no secret the disappointment that was my sons behavior, but even so..." She turned towards me with a light of cold fire " For a man Claiming to be a gentlemen to act so callously, is the greater disappointment than even his death."

And in that moment I knew, I would be the discussion of their private circle for many days, and a pressing force upon their private thoughts for many more days. These women would not soon forget me, or my stolen face. But, to be sure of the thing, a touch of subtle unreasonableness.

"I am sorry to hear this, madam, but if he were of such ill repute, I would imagine his funeral was rather loud then." I spoke, aiming for the exposed nerve they'd presented me with. "Loud?" the girl asked, puzzled, the older woman bristled sensing my next move all too well. "From the celebrations" I quipped. In a flash like thunder, the barely contained malice broke free of the dam and spilled over me at much the same moment her glass of seltzer spilled over my ears. I fell limp as the glass broke and the pieces cut my skin, the sound of hurried footsteps and confused expressions ringing out into the air as my vision dimmed for a moment. I was moved by many hands to a chair to recover from the magnificent blow.

"damn fool" I heard some one whisper, a stench of whiskey on his breath. "to provoke the La Marche women!"

"Quiet, he's coming around."

"Never thought she'd resort to violence..."

"Seemed like a nice fellow, poor man to attacked so senselessly."

"What should we do? go after them?" A humorous reply "You go after them ,see how you end up!"

Though I didn't think any saw it, I permitted myself a small genuine smile as I considered the name 'La Marche.'