When I left Starbucks, I found the Archangel Michael beating the living shit out of Satan.
"Hey, now," I said. "Ease up."
Michael sniffed and dropped Satan in a little heap beside me. I was going to say more, but he flipped me off and launched into the sky. Angels got wicked backwash.
"Thanks, man," said Satan. He fussed with his suit, which was burned to rags. "You realize that was a trick, though. Now you're definitely damned for sure."
"Okay," I said. "You want some of my brownie?"
"No."
He took half, and we walked down the street together.
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