since the pope died, satan's been aching. he can't find any ideal candidate better than me for the position of the Main Antichrist, and I rejected him so thoroughly.
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What's wrong, satan? Out of juice? Cat's out of the fluffy bloated bag? Can't beat my boxing? Things too heavy for you? In a state of shock? you got schooled? I'm worth more than my weight in gold? Lol!
satan: "we need to lie low; he obviously found us out."
jezebel spirit: "but sir, he crushed all of it!"
satan: "not all of it; we still hold the presidency, the freemason guilds, and the other avenues. we might not be able to get him, but we will search for the best replacement we can."
jezebel spirit: "a tall order, sir. pope francis' death crippled us. and the destruction of our drug trade industry happened at the worst possible time."
satan: "I'll get him: I'll kill him!"
satan: "shoot! he found out!"
jezebel spirit: "oh [redacted]!"
satan: "he knows! KILL HIM!"