“WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER, BRAT.” Flames crackled and sputtered in the air as he spoke. “YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU BOUND I, BELPHEGOR, TO YOUR MORTAL PLANE TO HELP YOU WITH YOUR GEOMETRY HOMEWORK?”
I shrunk in my chair and stammered, “W-well, it does say in the Dictionnaire Infernal that you’re supposed to be some demon of knowledge… I figured you must know something about trigonometry… “
The demon looked almost looked insulted. “KNOW SOMETHING?” he boomed. “I PRACTICALLY GAVE THE THEOREM TO PYTHAGORAS HIMSELF, YOU IGNORANT BOY. AND ITS PRONOUNCED DAEMON, THANK YOU.”
I looked quizzically at him. “Why’d you help Pythagoras, then?”
The demon was amused by the question, “WHY, HE SOLD HIS SOUL TO ME, OF COURSE. PERHAPS I’D BE WILLING TO DO THE SAME FOR YOU, MORTAL,” he sneered.
“My soul? Isn’t that a lot for some homework?” I rummaged around in my pockets. “Do you want some arcade tokens instead? I have a couple nickels too, if you want those.”
The demon hung his head in his claws, “HOW MUCH LONGER DO YOU PLAN ON KEEPING ME HERE, MORTAL? BREAK THIS CIRCLE IMMEDIATELY!”
“I’unno, until my homeworks done? Might as well help.”