A painful sounding, bone deep creak sounded from the demon as the angel dared to step into his space, the twig-like, reedy antlers visibly thickening as the haze of static began to dimly sound, still seeming distant, like a storm brewing just over the horizon.

"Oh no, don't misunderstand me. The rules of a deal ensure the safety of a transaction." Light, casual, instructional, that tone, and oh so gently condescending, like a mildly annoyed college professor, rather than a very, very offended demon. "Allow me to explain.

I uphold my end of the bargain, and you uphold yours. Your side of the deal of course, is to extend absolution, a second chance. I serve my one hundred years in your quaint little heavenly work release program. That is the agreement, those are the rules of this deal.

Unspoken of course, is the assumption that I won't, say, lose my temper, and find out what angel tastes like a la tartare. That's a part of the deal too. If you're going to start ignoring rules, then why the hell shouldn't I?"