High school. The mere mention of the merciless prison makes Satan quiver in his booties. "You must go." he whispers. "You must experience this first hand and tell me what it's like."
I groan. Why do I always have to be the one to go suffer through these terrible Earth customs?
"If you go, I'll buy you a kitten." Drat. The temptation is too much.
"I'll go. Don't expect me to like it." I sigh as I catch sight of Satan's accomplished, toothy grin. For as long as I can remember, I've been a sort of double agent for the infernal guy. I've been sent up to the mortal world to do numerous things, but nothing quite as terrifying as this. I set out on my terrifying mission.
"Be home for dinner," he called, "I'm making pasta and steamed broccoli!"
I do a dance that kind of mimics the hokie pokie, and in a flash, there I am. Surrounded by smelly, sweaty teenagers, I already feel repulsed. The cliques and general pretentiousness of half the kids is enough to make one feel alienated, so I continue on my way.
It's 11:24 am, and I leave my second class. I'm already exhausted. My brain hurts, my eyes are sore, and I swear I fell asleep about 3 times. Not to mention some of the kids are so incredibly rude I'm just about ready to rip someone's head off.
I take a seat in the old, chipped desk in the classroom of my third class of the day. Almost at my breaking point, I am not a force to be reckoned with. The teacher comes in and spouts some more dull, useless nonsense, and I just lose it. I stand up, stomp my feet a few times, whip my arms around, and engulf the entire school in a sea of fire. Quickly, I warp back home. The smell of burning flesh and eternal damnation fills me with much glee and familiarity. I hop over to the kitchen and see Satan busy at work cooking a delicious meal. Frantically, I run over to him and he puts his arm around my shoulder, giving me a curious expression.
"Satan, it was HELL up there!"
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