Gore, Dawn, Burney, and Evy stood at the entrance to the St. Louis Cathedral. They were panting, leaning against each other with varying degrees of exhaustion. Dawn was half-awake and leaning on Evy’s blood-stained shoulders. Gore had half his armor dented and broken, making him look like a crushed soda can. And Burney was lying face-down on the pavement.

  Steve closed the church door behind him, and pulled a nearby bench in front of it in case the priest wanted his sandwich back.

  “Are you guys okay?” Steve asked his companions.

  Burney screamed into the ground.

  “I thought this was where you went,” Dawn said. “You owe me twenty bucks, Gore.”

  “The angels broke up when Jack started chasing you,” Evy explained. “They’re searching all over thinking you kept running.”

  “I was merely allowing them to think they had the upper hand. My final strike was soon to come,” Gore stated, leaning on his sword, barely able to stand.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Dawn asked, pointing at what Steve held in his hands.

  “It is. This is the sandwich,” Steve said, and presented his friends with the greatest sandwich ever crafted by mankind.

  It glowed with a holy, oyster-smelling aura.

  With the showcase of the hoagie that would unleash hell, a sphere-like aberration blinked into existence. Just far enough into the street to be at no risk of approaching the church grounds, a void of light and existence pulsated into being with inaudible intonations of despair. Out of this aberration, stepped the demon who would bring about the end of the world.

  “Hi Billy,” Steve said. “How ya been?”

  “You have only minutes to spare, He who is known as Steve,” Billy the demon said. He stepped out from the chasm of oblivion and toward Steve. “I hope you are fully completed with the task you had undertaken.”

  “I found the sandwich, yeah.”

  “Excellent. Then prepare this sandwich. The great dragon must be awoken. His armies are eager to bring about the final battle.” Billy held out his hand.

  “Just a second. A sandwich this good can’t just go to the Antichrist. It has to be shared with those who made it possible,” Steve said, unwrapping the sandwich. The smell of fried oysters, bacon, and a mixture of spices and sauces and marinated-goodness wafted toward the group. It was so powerful it popped out the dents in Gore’s armor and made Burney shoot straight up off the ground.

  “Make quick time of it, then,” Billy said. “We must needs break this gaming obsession with the one sandwich that will—”

  “Relax, Billy,” Steve said, a grin forming on his face. He then tore off a section of the oyster hoagie for each of his friends. One for Gore, one for Dawn, one for Evy, and he tossed a piece at Burney’s open mouth. For the first time, the food struck Burney’s tongue, allowing the tortured soul to taste the sandwich.

  Burney froze. He couldn’t move. His pupils were saucers. And for one brief moment that would have been missed had anyone looking blinked, his fire winked away, allowing him a nanosecond of peace. Then his fire returned, and Burney let out a scream.

  “You’re welcome,” Steve replied.

  Dawn ate her bit of sandwich with tiny bites. After the first few nibbles, she gobbled it down in one bite and shivered with so much happiness that she had to summon a bunny and break its neck just to make sure she didn’t throw off the balance of the universe with her glee.

  Evy ate her bit of sandwich, and immediately started singing and dancing around the group to Billy’s infinite annoyance. This wasn’t a terribly abnormal thing for Evy to do, but it was a joy-filled reaction nonetheless.

  Finally, when Gore ate his bit of sandwich in one chomp of his ferocious maw, he sat down, looked at Steve, and said with shock in his voice, “Steve, you are a true friend.”

  “Hearing you say that makes me incredibly uncomfortable,” Steve replied.

  “Me too.”

  “But thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  “Enough dabbling. Give me the sandwich. It is time, He who is known as Steve. Armageddon awaits,” Billy said, once more holding his hand out for the sandwich that would begin the apocalypse.

  There was still half the sandwich left, more than enough for its flavor to break Damien’s perceptions of reality so that he could lead the armies of hell. But Steve took a look at it, and gave it a joyful sniff.

  “Just a second. I think I deserve a taste of this sandwich, too” Steve said, and, grinning, took a bite.

  “Okay, just one taste. But that’s it,” Billy said.

  “Mm, you weren’t kidding, Gore. This is really good.”

  “You’ve had your bite, He who is known as Steve. Give it here.”

  “Hold on. I don’t think I got a full experience,” Steve said, and took another bite.

  “A taste you have had, half-demon. Now give me the sandwich that I might teleport it to the son of sin and compel him to begin his quest of global — did you just take another bite?”

  “Yup.”

  “That shall be your last, He who is known as Steve. You shall cease your chewing and enjoyment of that sandwich and swallow for the final time so that we might — what did I just say!”

  Steve took another bite. There was only a single large bite of sandwich remaining. A single bite, a thick sampling of the tastiest sandwich in the world, stolen from a priest, and Steve’s last hope of avoiding a sentence to hell.

  “You listen to me, He who is known as Steve,” Billy threatened. “You shall deliver that sandwich into my hands this instant, or all the fires of eternal suffering shall be focused upon your soul in an unending torture that shall make you scream into the completion of time itself the regret that you did not do as I command.”

  “Totally worth it,” Steve said, and ate the last of the sandwich.

  In that instant, the world seemed to pause. The sun seemed to brighten. All around Steve held their breath as Steve closed his eyes and absorbed the last and only chance he would ever have of knowing the sensation of pure freedom. Of course, the only reason the world seemed to pause was because everyone on Jackson Square looked up to see Jack’s wingspan blot out the setting sun. Its reflections off his halo were the reason for the sudden bright light, and everyone around Steve sucked in air to shout a warning for him that Jack was about to make a nose-dive his direction. And then the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.

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  “Time’s up, Steve!” Jack announced.

  Steve opened his eyes and saw the angel glaring down from his perch in the sky. “Do what you want, Jack,” Steve answered. “I’m done.”

  “’kay.” With one last hovering flap of his wings, Jack tilted down and tucked in his wings, rocketing toward Steve. There was enough time for Steve to jump behind Gore, or even use Burney as a less stable but no less defensive shield against the coming attack.

  But Steve didn’t move. He stood, adjusted his hat, and gave a little grin to the angel who body-slammed him in the chest.

  The diving angel hit the half-demon like a cannonball and rolled end over end back into the church doors. The impact broke open the doors to the St. Louis Cathedral and sent Steve and Jack skidding across the polished floor. Black and white tiles spun in Steve’s vision as he slid to a stop against a pew with Jack perched on top of him.

  “Hoowah!” Jack cheered, and landed a punch on Steve’s jaw. “Got ya now, sucka!” Jack punched Steve again, roaring with his own success as if he were a bull rider who’d worn his mount to exhaustion. “Yeah! Taste the fists! Do you taste ‘em? Taste ‘em again!”

  Jack continued to land punches into Steve’s rapidly bloodying face. “How’s it taste? Taste good?” Jack asked. “What’s that? What’s that, loser?”

  Steve smacked his lips, trying to say something through his blurred vision of black and white tiles and the heavenly ceiling painting. “Tastes of cheddar,” Steve sputtered.

  “Oh you think you’re funny?”

  “Let him go!” Evy cried, struggling to get past the barrier that Steve had put in the doorway to keep the priest from chasing him outside. Steve had a moment to consider that this might have been a mistake. But the priest was also nowhere to be found. It was pretty much the only time in Steve’s life he’d ever wanted a priest. Not for confession or communion, but so the man could beat this angel over the head with an incense burner.

  “You think you’re funny, eh?” Jack asked, noticing Evy running to help. “How bout another flavor?”

  Laughing, and moving so quickly he flew right past Evy and the demons waiting outside, Jack took to the sky the same way he’d come, holding Steve by the ankles. With three flaps of his color-stained wings, Jack flew to the top of the church, held Steve up to look him in the eye, said, “I win, Stevey-boy. Taste a bit a this,” and dropped him.

  Had Burney not been standing underneath Steve, the fall probably would have broken his neck. Had Burney been able to catch Steve, as he was trying to do, he would have set Steve on fire. As it was, Burney missed and had Steve land on his head, which had the dual ability to soften Steve’s fall and not burn him alive. It was, however, still a quite long fall, and Steve hit the wide-blocked pavement with an uncomfortably loud cracking noise.

  Steve and Burney screamed in pain.

  Jack, slowly descending to earth, laughed.

  “Steve!” Dawn shouted, she and Evy rushing over to examine Steve’s injury, and to make sure that Burney didn’t try to do the same.

  “Come and try that with Gore, brass halo!” Gore threatened. “Let us see you lift me and my fists.”

  “You should see the look on your face!” Jack laughed, ignoring Gore as he set his feet on the ground. “It’s too much, oh, I’m gonna die again, it’s too much!”

  “Be-gone, you being of goodness,” Billy cursed, waving away the angel. Billy, much to pretty much everyone’s disappointment, had not left, and had grown more and more impatient with Jack’s interruption. “It is I who will be inflicting pain upon this wretched being. Take your limp-winged self back from whence you came.”

  “Having too much fun, buddy-boy, but appreciate the invite,” Jack said.

  “Listen,” Steve said, wincing, “I don’t want to come between you two. Why don’t I just limp on out of here, no one gets to torture me. Compromise, what do you say?”

  “Meh. I’m getting bored anyway.”

  “You could drop me from the sky again. Burney tells me it’s great fun to fall from ten thousand feet—”

  Burney screamed.

   “Five thousand feet, into the Mississippi River,” Steve said. “Great fun for everyone.”

   Burney screamed again.

   “Quiet, Burney, I’m negotiating,” Steve said, biting through the pain in his leg.

   “There will be no negotiation,” Billy interjected. “He who is known as Steve shall descend to hell with me. The others shall face their own judgment in time.”

   “What?” Dawn asked.

   Burney screamed.

   “I shall not go down without a fight,” Gore threatened, summoning his sword.

   “A fight you shall have, then, Hell Knight,” Billy said, reaching out to grab Steve by the arm. “In the meantime, I shall escort this swine off the cliffs and into the lake of fire. I ask you, was it worth it now, He who is known as Steve?”

   Delirious with pain and fear of what soon awaited him, Steve could only lie motionless and say, “Would have liked some chips to go with it,” as Billy grabbed him by the arm.

   But instead of a portal opening to the underworld that would plunge Steve into a pit of fire and gnashing of teeth, Billy squealed in pain and pulled his hand away.

  “What is this?” Billy said, nursing his hand and grinding his incisors against each other. He reached out to take Steve once more, only to once more have a searing pain prevent him from touching the half-demon.

   “Despair upon your soul and great bedlam in your every hour,” Billy cursed, and danced away in pain. “You’ve been touched!”

   “Well, I mean, it’s been awhile but—” Steve began before he was quickly interrupted.

   “I mean by him!” Billy pointed a gnarled finger at Jack.

   “Yo,” Jack declared, pointing two proud thumbs at his chest. “Touched him good and hard I did.”

   “You have been tainted by this… angel. There is purity in you.” Billy spat, the liquid contents of which began to eat through the pavement. “I cannot take you to hell like that.”

   “Saywhanow?”

   “You had a chance to begin the end of the world, and bring about the glorification of all that is dark in the hearts of men. And yet you traded a crown made from the hides of your enemies for a sandwich.”

   “Those hide crowns are surprisingly comfortable,” Gore noted.

   “You may yet have regained favor with the dark one through your torment. And yet you turn away that possibility by relenting to the punishment of this mouse with wings.”

   “Hey! This look like mouse muscles to you?” Jack asked, flexing for no one’s amusement.

   “I banish thee,” Billy declared, his hand extended toward Steve. “I bar the favor of hell from your grasp and cast you to this pit of pathetic humanity.”

   “That’s nice,” Steve said.

   “It is not a good thing! It is the most wretched of all curses a demon could suffer in all the tortures of—”

   “Hey, you guys see where I dropped that sandwich wrapper? I wanna go hunt that place down and see if we can get a recipe or something.” Steve smiled to his friends and tried to stand, but fell against his twisted leg. “Ow.”

   “You shall not enjoy this, He who is known as Steve! You are bound to the gates of demon-kind no longer! Glory shall never be yours! You shall never taste the blood of those who would look upon you and—”

   “I’d rather taste another hoagie, but thanks anyway.”

   “Then taste it you shall. For instead of the world kneeling at your feet you will see only…” Billy looked down and saw the bit of sandwich wrapper that Steve was looking for, “Coop’s!”

   “Oh, that’s what the place is called? Thanks very much.”

   “You will never understand what you have lost,” Billy said, smoke rising from his nostrils.

   “Sure. What about my friends?” Steve asked, pointing at Dawn, Gore, and Burney.

   “Their bargain cannot be altered by my hand. Should they break the balance of good and evil and find themselves in hell, you will no longer be capable of helping them.” Billy’s grin set off bits of flame beneath his lifeless black eyes.

   Burney screamed.

   “And the same to you!” Billy replied, aghast. “The same to you all! The same to you all!”

   The fire was growing out of control inside Billy, purple and glowing. It soon showed shadow-filled light through widening cracks in the demon’s skin.

   “Bye-bye now,” Steve said, waving.

   Billy gave out one last curse as his glowing energy formed a spherical miasma. The dark power reached out to collect the demon, and drew him forth into the black hole in existence, sealing itself up once again with a crack of thunder.

   “Well,” Steve said, “I think my leg is feeling be — yeeeeah, I was wrong, it’s terrible,” Steve said, testing his leg.

   “Pretty sure it’s broken, Steve,” Dawn said.

   “I could break the other one if you’d like. It would even your walking,” Gore offered.

   “No thanks, Gore, but I appreciate it, I really do. Still, if a broken leg is what keeps me out of hell,” Steve said, smiling at the suddenly wide-eyed Jack, “totally worth it.”