She walked outside, rain dripping down her

She walked outside, rain dripping down her face, dripping off the end of her nose. She turned back, memories of the houses past flouded her mind.

She wanted to go back but at the same time she didn't. She couldn't stand the thought of leaving her siblings ; they were the most important thing to her.

She kept wavering between the options but she decided she had to leave.

The demon reminded her that leaving was not one of the options and that would be counted as strike one. She looked at the options again. A) marry the demon and die B) marry the de

mon's brother and live a long, suffering life. Then there is a hidden option, less demonic, but a world of terror unto itself. She chose C) self-lobotomy. The demon, dumbstruck,

was stunned into silence by her lack of survival instinct. In those moments, she was able to punch the devil and run straight out of hell.

By the time he got over his shock, she was long gone. "Wait," he called into the darkness. "But we have pie in Hell." No answer. "Damn it," the devil said. "Now the pie's wasted."

Satan loved pecan pie. His minions made one daily and he polished them off in 17:47:43. Mephistopheles timed it. Devil's pecan pies were suddenly famous and sold at whole foods.

'Jamie Oliver, eat your heart out! The Devil has the best pecan pies this side of the Atlantic!" The advertising screamed. I had to turn and look out the yellowing window.