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Satan

Satan’s new nametag says SATIN.

“It was probably one of those accidentally-on-purpose typos,” says Aaron. “He doesn’t want people coming into the store and thinking you’re some…”

“If he was going to do that,” says Satan, “why wouldn’t he just go with ‘Stan?'”

“I like it,” says Rosaline, through quesadilla. “Sort of a cool drag vibe.”

“Rosaline,” says Aaron with great concern, “no one ever says ‘vibe.'”

Rosaline defies him by stuffing more quesadilla into her face. They’re all sick of the quesadilla, but it’s so cheap and so good, and where else are they going to hang out?

Satan

“Oh, man,” says Caraway, “with a name like that you must have gone through–”

Satan smiles. “It’s just the Hebrew for ‘adversary.’ Like being named Buster.”

“Bet you had fun at school,” chuckles Caraway.

Silence.

“Anyway, your application seems fine,” Caraway mutters. “Just looking for seasonal work?”

“With an eye toward the future, if there’s a permanent opening. And if I stay in town.”

“Well, bring me three forms of ID tomorrow, and the job’s yours.”

“Good to hear.” Satan sounds relieved; they stand and shake.

“Welcome to Pet A Bit, Satan,” says Caraway. “I hope you like hickory and piss.”