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When his father finally gave him the Guns

  • When his father finally gave him the Guns n Roses album, he held the vinyl up to the light, as if Slash's leads and Axl's voice would come shimmering through. Then he moved towards
  • The turntable, anticipation shaking his fingers down to the tips. He'd been waiting for fifteen years for record player priveledges since the time he scratched the Welk single.
  • Now, as he stared at the spinning disc he knew that no recording would sound better than what he would experience over the next moments. The record was
  • made of hardened human flesh. A dragon's tooth was used to burn the souls of the damned onto the record. He was the only living human to be allowed this honor, so he turned
  • , took a bow and walked away. And then it began. The souls
  • of children lost at sea wailed - a sound to him like a sweet lullaby. He slept soundly that night for the first time in months. His only regret was
  • that the iceberg trick would work only once, twice at the most. He'd have to devise a new strategy for bringing more souls into his domain. He dreamed
  • that one day the world would freeze over, bringing about the end of humanity so he could torment them in his sulfurous chambers for the rest of eternity.
  • It was fun for about half a millennia but the damned just got peevish. He finally had the lost souls in marathon games of Boogle and musical chairs. "Unispiring," mumbled the imps.
  • "Well, if you don't like it," he said, "you can go to h--" He broke off, dropped to the ground and wept. There was just nowhere worse to go.

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