Jabber limped back into the foyer. The cone of his wizard's hat was burnt away so that only its wide black rim orbited his bald head. His clothes were singed in places and most of his eyebrows were gone. He was, however, still alive and in possession of most of his clothing, so all in all the angel had been rather gentle in her holy wrath. For that at least he was thankful.

Striking what he hoped was a nonchalant pose, Jabber grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server and leaned against the wall, stifling a yelp at the sudden pressure on his singed shoulder.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Jabber turned to see his ex-wife, Vicky smiling at him. Her white horns shone with a pearl-like iridescence and she was wearing an intricately crocheted red mini-dress that showed off her curves. An ivory wolf head pendant hung against her décolletage, complementing the bright sheen of her horns and making it exceedingly difficult for Jabber to keep his eyes on Vicky’s face.

"I don't want to talk about it," he grunted.

"Okay, okay, no need to be touchy," she said with laughter in her eyes. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course."

"Are you willing to do our demon possession act?"

"Here, tonight?"

"Yes, Eridian asked if we could do it."

"Of course, I'd be happy to."

"Truly?"

"Why not?" Jabber shrugged, enjoying the look of pleasure that spread across Vicky's face.

"Can we do it soon? I want Theodore to see it before he leaves."

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Jabber muttered as Theodore sauntered up and gave Vicky a hug from behind. He was a handsome older angel, with bright wings, silver hair, and prominent cheekbones. His round glasses sparkled in the glow of his halo.

"Good evening Jabber! What happened to your clothes?"

"I'd prefer not to talk about it."

"Sure, sure, no need to get salty." Theodore grinned at him.

Jabber grunted.

Vicky pulled out a piece of parchment and a pen. "I'll just need you to sign the possession contract."

Jabber took the pen and signed on the bottom line.

"Aren't you going to read through it first?" Theodore asked.

"I trust Vicky," Jabber responded as he handed it back to her.

"I wouldn't," Theodore said.

Five minutes later the entire assembly of human, angel, and demon guests were gathering in the sitting room, facing a sofa chair where Jabber sat. Vicky stood next to him. Behind the pair were large dark windows with flowing satin curtains the color of olives.

They both smiled, waiting until everyone was settled in their seats. When the room quieted, Vicky winked at the crowd before placing her hand around Jabber's head. She leaned in as though to kiss him. The guests hooted and Fokso ribbed Theodore with his elbow. The silver-haired angel gave an uncomfortable smile.

Instead of kissing, however, as Vicky neared Jabber she dissolved into a dark mist that flowed into his nostrils and mouth. The last part of her to enter Jabber was her spiked tail which she kept corporeal until the last possible second, resulting in an audible pop as it squeezed through Jabber's left nostril. The room chuckled.

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A moment later Jabber's eyes turned up in his head as he went into convulsions, writhing and growling with low moans, foam gathering on the edges of his mouth. He stopped suddenly, opened his eyes–which were now jet black–and said in Vicky's voice, "My apologies. Still trying to digest that lamb roast." The crowd laughed. Indeed the roast had been rather tough.

Baring his teeth suddenly, Jabber let out an inhuman snarl. He jumped with a powerful spring to the ceiling, his burnt robes hanging off in tatters. Crawling around the gleaming brass and crystal chandelier on all fours like a spider he stopped in front of the top arches of the high windows, twisting his head unnaturally a full one hundred eighty degrees to look down at the crowd. His eyes settled on Eridian and he whispered in a haunted voice, "I see ugly people." Fokso tried to stifle a laugh but ended up coughing champagne out of his nose. Everyone else smiled and hooted.

Jabber then projectile vomited a huge torrent of black and glistening slime at the side wall. The assembled guests grimaced in disgust, as the vomit slowly slid down the wood paneling. At the same time Jabber dropped to the ground, right in front of the sofa.

Wiping his lips he held his wand up near his mouth, its tip glowing to amplify his voice. When he spoke, it was still in Vicky's voice but somewhat deeper, more manly. "Thank you, thank you, the name's Legion. Let's see who we've got here tonight."

He pointed to a man with large ears in an embroidered red vest who stood near the back. "You sir, can you hear me ok?"

The man nodded.

"Of course you can, with those rabbit ears you can probably hear Mephistopheles farting in the Nether Regions." The man laughed good naturedly with the rest.

Jabber then looked at Fokso and Eridian. "Let's give a round of applause for our gracious hosts!"

Everyone clapped and cheered as Eridian and Fokso waved and smiled. A few raised their glasses to them.

"You having a good time Fokso?"

Fokso smiled. "Extremely!"

"Of course you are! You got enough to eat?"

Fokso nodded, patting his healthy girth.

Jabber looked around the gathering. "Is that even possible? Get this man another lamb shank!"

Fokso laughed while Eridian chuckled and drank champagne from her flute.

Jabber pointed to a rotund woman with a round, almost swollen-looking face, who had just joined the gathering, taking an empty seat near the front. She breathed heavily as she leaned forward on a cane with the head of a carved ivory wolf.

"Can we get her some as well? She looks famished. You Fokso's sister? You both could be twins!"

The woman didn't laugh. "Oh I see, because we're fat?" she said. "Actually, I'm pregnant."

Silence dampened the room like heavy fingers extinguishing a candle.

"Ah . . . I see, well, um, my apologies and congratulations.” He turned from her, looking around at the seated guests. “Let’s see . . . who else?"

"No," the woman said, "please continue. Would you like to make fun of my stretch marks?"

"No," Jabber's voice wavered uncertainly, sounding even more like himself. "Heh . . . let's give everyone else a chance."

"I insist, it's very humorous."

Jabber rubbed his cheek and said, "Well, ok, um . . . so where's your husband? I'd like to congratulate him for knocking you up." Jabber paused before delivering the punchline. "I mean the sheer mechanics of it are mind-boggling!"

No one laughed. The audience looked back and forth between the woman and Jabber, confused as to how they should respond.

"My husband?" the woman asked. "Oh he's down in the islands. Ran off with a young angel after this demon spawn of his," she pointed to her belly, "made me gain weight from gestational diabetes."

At this the guests gasped.

"Why don't you make fun of me having to use a cane?" the woman continued.

"Madam," Jabber replied, "there's nothing funny about physical impairments."

"But that man's big ears are hilarious?" the woman asked.

"Ok, ok, um," Jabber stammered, his voice no longer sounding remotely like Vicky's. "Well, I would but I'm worried you might hit me with that thing. Must be made of titanium."

Absolute silence.

"What? It can't be made of wood. Wouldn't be able to hold her up.” Jabber looked around desperately. It was clear he was losing the room. “You know . . . because she's so heavy."

The crowd groaned in disbelief. The large muscular demon that Jabber had run into earlier booed from the back.

"This was my father's!" the woman said, standing up and shambling towards Jabber. "He gave it to me last year when he died of consumption. Told me to lean on it when I was in need and it would be as though I were leaning on him."

"Ah . . . well, God return to bless his soul . . ." Jabber took a step back, but before he could get out of reach, the woman held up her cane and rapped him smartly on the forehead with its ivory wolf head. The magician collapsed to the floor.