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The Prince of Darkness is giving up his titles, including the Mammon Demon of Greed, following 'discussion with the King.'


In a statement, The Former Angel of the Abyss said that the 'continued accusations about me distract from the work of stealing, killing and destroying.'


Beelzebub will remain a prince, but will cease to be The Lord of the Flies, as well as giving up membership of a group of demons known as Legion, the oldest and most senior order of the underworld.


Lucifer has been under growing pressure over his links with the late sex offender Jeffrey Epstein, who was quite frankly even more evil and therefore more deserving of the titles.


In the statement, the Serpent said: 'I vigorously deny the accusations that I have done anything right. I am just as bad as him, and haven't ever done anything good with my life.'



Image credit: perchance.org

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Scenes of panic and fear gripped the White House, and the watching US public, as Donald Trump delivered a terrifying vision of the future, yesterday. After the press conference commenced, Mr Trump suddenly seemed to hover a foot above the floor whilst screaming then ripped off his suit jacket and shirt revealing the dark discolouring on his hand seeming to rapidly grow up his arm and across his body.


As this happened, he began, in his usual tone, 'witness pitiful mortals, and you really are pitiful, everyone is saying it, as I enter my final vengeful form. It's a fantastic form, some people are saying it's the best form they've ever witnessed. I may get nominated for a Nobel Final Form Prize, we don't know yet. But whatever happens, we're going to get you, you can't hide. I'm the best seeker. Now, the countdown to your firing begins."


With this he suddenly spouted leathery, blackened wings and, with a fiery flourish, smashed through the Press Room window and was last seen perched atop the Washington Monument eyeing Hispanic passers-by.


The US Vice President, JD Vance, said, 'as usual our President shows us the way forward. We will be introducing legislation soon to encourage everyone to reach their demonic final form or be deported to the desperate pits of hell….' The conference was then interrupted by hellish screams coming from Washington Plaza. The President's team made a speedy retreat to confer on next steps.


This is a breaking story, more soon….



Image credit: perchance.org


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He was home free. After a lifetime of saving souls, dipping into the collection plate and running from Satan, Fr Mackenzie finally had a shot at retirement. But the Bishop had other plans. And you don't bash the Bishop.


'It's the Randle brothers. They'll be in town next month. Sinners and filthy rich. Could be our biggest score'.


'I told ya, Bish. I'm never goin' back'.


The Bishop looked around the tiny apartment. 'Call this home? You could be in St Anselm's playing chess with the others'.


Fr Mackenzie sighed. He knew the conversation. 'I'm alone, Bish; I am not lonely'.


It was futile, though. For a man like Fr Mackenzie, the action is the juice. He knew it, Bish knew it. And Satan was hovering, waiting for him to make a slip.


'You live simply'.


'Yeah, well, a wise priest once told me: Don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner. Remember that conversation, Your Grace?'


The Bishop shrugged. 'I'm not an Archbishop yet. My Lord will do. This score, though – the Randle Brothers – you could retire a Monsignor'.


He was retired already, but he needed the action. Bish knew it. They both did. He missed the juice.


'Ah, what the hell. One last job, yeah?'


The Bishop smiled. 'I'll bring the incense. Pack your rosary beads Jack, we're goin' hunting'.



First published 11 June 2023



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