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The Jersey Devil

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The Jersey Devil sipped his wine from a pint glass through a straw and turned his dull white eyes up to mine. We have met together enough times now for me to tell when something is bothering him. We were scheduled to talk about the killing his mother today but, it did not look like he had it in him. “Are you ready to talk?” I asked him. He grunted in his obscene manner in response to the question. Apparently, he was not in the mood for matricide today. “All she ever did was tend her garden and talk about how in love with dad she had been. Ironically, her favorite line of sweet talk from him was, 'I love you. Everyday, and twice on Sundays.' It was sickening.” “Why sickening?” I had to ask. He stared through my eyes and seemed to speak directly into my brain, 'Because of who my father is.' Up until that point, I had figured that he was a mutant or even a curse of some sort. Never did the thought cross my mind that he was the spawn of something truly evil. “God had sent his son Jesus,” he spat on the floor, “to Earth more than 2000 years ago. Almost 18 centuries later, Satan became sick of hearing about the supposed savior of man. So, being spiteful and hating God more than anything, he designed himself a brother. He called his brother Josiah because, he liked the name.” I said, “I never knew Satan had a brother and I certainly have never heard of Josiah.” It began to rain outside and trickles of brown water seeped through the roof and on to the table. The Devil

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