Once upon a time, the Devil grew depressed and went to his psychiatrist.

"There's nothing left for me to do!" he complained miserably, lying on a soft leather couch, eyes closed, and fanning himself with the bushy end of his tail. "Humanity is already so utterly depraved, evil, and rotten to the core that they don't need my help with committing sins! Not even the tiniest little bit!"

The doctor made a note on his scratchpad. "How sad."

"The other day, I appeared to a bank robber and offered to help him crack Fort Knox in exchange for his immortal soul. And do you know what he said?"

"No. What did he say?"

"No thanks, buddy, I've got it covered! That's what he said! Got it covered! Ha! I hope they catch him and he's thrown into a high security prison with deviant inmates!"

"What about the younger generation?" the doctor asked, making another note on his scratchpad. "That used to be a real talent of yours, Mr. Lucifer—enticing the young, leading them off the path of righteousness..."

"Off it?" The Devil snorted. "That would require them ever having been on it in the first place! But nowadays, with all that crap TV they're watching all the time, with serial killers and witches and bloodsucking, mass-murdering vampires as role models, it's hardly a wonder they learn how to be nasty before they learn how to say 'Mama'!"

"True. So true."

"Have you ever been in a kindergarten playground, doctor?"

"I don't think so, Mr. Lucifer, no."

"Well, don't try! I went there the other day, just for a harmless little visit, trying to entice some children into blasphemy and apostasy—and do you know what they did?"

"No, Mr. Lucifer."

"They jumped on me and tried to misuse me as a horse! Several of them pulled on my tail! And when I threatened them with the eternal fires of hell, they threatened to drag me to the nearest police station and report me for child abuse if I didn't start to whinny!"

"Shocking!"

"The next day," the Devil continued, apparently on a roll, "I approached a young maiden. What people nowadays would call a 'teenager.' Blonde, blue-eyed, pure as the driven snow! She was gazing at a shirtless boy washing a car on the other side of the street. Taking the form of a whispering wind, I slipped into her ear and whispered, 'He could be yours! Just leave the path of righteousness, and he will fulfill your most wicked dreams and deepest desires!' And do you know what she said?"

"No, Mr. Lucifer. What?"

"She said, I know. But I'm out of condoms right now!"

"Deplorable."

"A hundred years ago, I would have had to delicately seduce her into evil! Damn hard work it would have been, but at least I would have had something to do! Nowadays, half of the time I want to run away from children; the little buggers are so scary!"

The psychiatrist looked over at a picture of his three little nieces on the wall. He swallowed, hard. "Indeed they are," he said. "I feel your pain."

Lifting his head a few inches off the couch, the Devil looked over at the doctor, his eyes bloodshot. "And do you know what's worst of all?"

"No. What?"

A three-clawed fist slammed down on the couch. Sulphurous smoke drifted up, filling the room with the smell of rotten eggs. "The people who say I don't exist! The people who drag my name through the mud and attribute all my past accomplishments to humanity!"

The psychiatrist nodded. "I heard about that. I tried to speak up for you—"

"Really?" The Devil's eyes shone with fiery red gratitude. "You don't know how much I appreciate that, doctor! You are an ange—um, I mean of course you are a devil. A devious demon."

"Thank you for the compliment. It was my pleasure. Those modern history books get enough wrong already."

"Exactly! King Herod, Hitler, Stalin, Vlad the Impaler, Mao Zedong—all those lovely dictators and devil worshipers in whose ears I whispered and whom I led to unbelievable and glorious evil—now everyone is saying they did it all by themselves! Bah!" The Devil spat on the ground next to the couch, and the spittle burned a small hole in the floor, falling through and infecting the people in the room below with the black plague. "As if puny humans could ever be able to be that evil by themselves!"

The psychiatrist nodded. "People should be able to recognize a true master at work."

"Exactly, doctor! Thank you so much for understanding! It's all the historians' fault! Those infernal historians who are trying to say that the humans did it all on their own and I had nothing to do with it! Oh, I tell you, I'll have a special corner of hell reserved for historians! With extra hot fire and freshly sharpened pitchforks! I'll be personally standing ready with the whip for when they arrive!"

"Very wise. It is always a good idea to work off stress through harmless leisure activities."

"I know, I know. Still..." The Devil sighed. "It doesn't really help me. It's a terrible thing to not be appreciated, doctor!"

"True." Thoughtfully, the doctor tapped his lower lip with the end of his pencil. "You know...I might have an idea."

The Devil perked up. "How I can get humans to pay attention to me again?"

"No, not that. I was thinking more along the lines of seeking a new field of activity. Why concentrate on humans so much? After all, there are plenty of other beings with souls: dormice, whales, bacteria.... Why not try to entice some of them into sin?"

The Devil stared at the doctor for a moment. Then, he suddenly jumped up, flames shooting from his ears. "That's a fantastic idea! Thank you, doctor! Thank you!"

Rushing forward, he grabbed the doctor by the hand and shook it. The doctor winced as the poisonous claws dug into his skin, but controlled himself.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Lucifer."

"I must go! I've got work to do!" Snatching his hat from the hatstand, the Devil jumped out of the window onto a waiting thundercloud and flew off, his mind already racing with fresh ideas for evil.

***********

"Excuse me?"

The slug looked up to see a grinning, horned face hover over him.

"Yes? What do you want?" he asked.

"I was wondering, could I perhaps interest you in some sloth?"

"Some what?"

"Sloth. High-quality, concentrated laziness. It's a sin. One of the seven deadly sins, to be exact. One of my finest creations, if I do say so myself."

"And you are...?"

The Devil slapped his forehead, and little puffs of smoke erupted from his ears. "Oh, please forgive me! I completely forgot to introduce myself. It's just that, with humans, I am rather well-known, so I sometimes forget that other creatures are not quite as familiar with me. Lucifer is the name, Lucifer. Some call me the Morning Star, some the Lord of the Flies. People who know me really well call me the Accursed Origin of All Evil and the Destroyer of Mankind. But Lucifer will be fine, for now."

"Nice to meet you," said the slug. "I'm Bill."

"So glad to make your acquaintance, Bill!" The Devil extended his claw and shook the slug's antenna. "Well, how about it? Can I interest you in some fine old sloth?"

"What is it all about?" the slug asked. "This sloth-thing, I mean. What does it involve?"

"It's really simple!" The Devil beamed. He was really proud of the simple ingenuity of his invention. This was a most diverse product with which everyone could do something—or nothing, actually. "You just lean back, relax, and do nothing."

Bill the slug twitched his antennas—which is what slugs do instead of blinking in surprise. "Just...do nothing?"

"Yep, that's it. Genius, isn't it?"

"And the point of it is...?"

"To sin, of course!" the Devil crowed. "And, ultimately, to land in hell where you can enjoy the special treatment of my experienced staff for eternity!"

"Hmm..." Bill said, thoughtfully scratching a slimy patch on his back.

"I thought you would be an ideal candidate for sloth," added the Devil excitedly. "I mean, a slug, being lazy—it's practically a done deal! You would hardly have to change a bit to become the most ardent sinner the world has ever seen!"

The moment the words left his lips he knew he should have kept his mouth closed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The slug's eyes flared with anger.

"Well...um..." The Devil coughed delicately. "I mean, slugs in general...they're rather lazy already, aren't they? They hardly move around, and don't do much except ooze slime, so I thought..."

"I'll have you know that only yesterday I broke my own personal speed record," Bill huffed. "From the compost heap to the cabbage patch in only five hours and twenty-seven minutes!"

"Well, that's really impressive. To get back to the subject of sloth..."

The slug crossed his antennas in rage. "So just because I am a slug, you thought I was lazy! That's speciesism, you know! You are walking a fine line here, Mister!"

"No, please! I didn't mean to offend you! I just..."

"Get lost! I have lettuce to devour!"

"Please, just listen..."

"I am a very busy slug! If you don't get out of here right now, I'll smear slime all over you!"

Reluctantly, the Devil evaporated into a puff of smoke.

***********

"Good morning! How are you doing on this fine day?"

The leopard, crouching in the grass of the plains just a few dozen yards away from a juicy gazelle, moved his eyes about one millimeter to the right. First he saw the horns, then the scaly red skin, then the eyes burning like fire.

"What do you want?" he growled, keeping his voice as low as possible. The gazelle kept grazing, unaware of the danger.

"Let me introduce myself. Lucifer is the name, Lucifer. Some call me the Morning Star, some the Lord of the Flies. People who know me really well call me the Accursed Origin of All Evil and the Destroyer of Mankind. But Lucifer will be fine, for now."

"I said," the leopard hissed, taking a cautious step towards the gazelle, "what do you want?"

"Well, it's like this, my friend. You're a leopard, right? Fastest land animal of the earth. Or is that the cheetah? I always get those mixed up, I'm afraid. But anyway, I was thinking, considering all the running you do, you have to be pretty tired. Exhausted, as a matter of fact."

"What I am," the leopard growled, "is busy! I'm stalking! Now, begone before you chase my prey away with your jabbering!"

The devil nodded, an ingratiating, hopeful smile on his face. "Yes, busy, of course, I can see that. I won't take up much of your valuable time. I was just wondering, with you being so exhausted and all from all the hunting and killing and tearing to pieces, whether you would be interested in a bit of sloth."

Another cautious step forward. The leopard was so close to the gazelle now he could almost smell his prey—if it hadn't been for the sulphurous stench coming from the annoying little horned creature floating beside him!

"A bit of what?" he snapped.

The gazelle's ears twitched. Damn! He had to be more careful.

"Sloth," the Devil repeated cheerfully. "Also known as laziness, or absence of activity. It's one of the seven deadly sins, you know. I made them all myself, and am justly proud of it, too. Originally, I thought I would only manage to make six. It's so hard to create variety in products, you know. But then that clever little woman in paradise ate that apple and—wham!—soon she and her man were busy behind the bush, and we had seven deadly sins. Ah, those were the days! People back then really respected me, you know? They really knew quality craftsmanship when they saw it!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" the leopard hissed. He was nearly close enough now! Nearly close enough to start running!

"Well," the Devil sighed. "We must go with the times. Which brings me back to why I am here. How about it, my friend? Wouldn't you like to laze around in the sun for a bit? Just be a really, really idle, lazy, good-for-nothing layabout for an afternoon or two! You'll see how much fun it is! And we haven't even talked about the long-term benefits yo—"

The leopard sprang!

Giving a startled jerk of her head, the gazelle whirled around and galloped away, across the grassy plains. Frantically, she looked around for somewhere to hide, but there was nothing. Not even a scrap of underbrush. Speeding up, dashing across the plains with blinding speed, the leopard smiled.

That is, he smiled until a red figure appeared floating beside him.

"Oops. Lost you there for a moment. You were suddenly moving a lot faster than I."

"Go...away...!" the leopard managed between hungry pants.

"No need to be worried on my account, my friend. I can keep up with you, no problem. Now, as I was saying, the benefits of sloth are simply wonderful! Do you know the kind of stress that a modern hunting environment in the African steppe can cause? All those tourists on safari, and the planes flying overhead, and the waterholes full of elephant dung? Well, sloth takes care of all of that! We offer a complete, full-time eternity relaxation program, guaranteed to take care of any stress-related problems whatsoever! You can sleep all day long if you want, only get up to eat and drink occasionally, of course in copious amounts."

"You...are distracting...me! Begone!"

"And that's not all, my friend! Oh no, I haven't gotten to the best part yet. Because, when you die, that's when the real fun begins. You'll be put in our best limousine and driven over the road paved with good intentions straight to the gates of our great spa and hotel, where we entertain our guests for eternity. You know what it's called? You might have guessed, me being the Devil and all, but just in case you didn't know, I'll tell you. It's H—"

"Shut the hell up!"

"Yes, Hell! That's it, exactly. How did you know?"

The leopard's legs were beginning to hurt. Making a final, desperate lunge for the gazelle, he snapped his jaws shut—on empty air.

Panting, he slumped to the ground. The gazelle, meanwhile, ran off into the African sunset, to live happily ever after.

"So, how about it?" the Devil asked heartily. "Do you want to try some sloth?"

"No! No, no, no, and a thousand times sharp-clawed, teeth-biting no!"

"All right, all right! You don't need to become so upset about it." The Devil thought for a moment. "Well, if you aren't interested in sloth, how about vanity? That's another deadly sin, and an excellent one it is! I could give your leopard skin a more interesting pattern. A bit of gold here, some imperial purple there, and soon, you would be prettier than any peacock that ever preened his feathers."

Slowly, glowering, the huge wildcat rose from the dusty ground of the steppe. "The leopard does not change his spots!" he growled. "Now, get out of here before I bite your ass off!"

***********

"Hello there, my dear! How are you?"

The snake looked up and narrowed her eyes—a thing very difficult for a reptile to do. "Oh no! Not you again!"

"I hope that's snake dialect for 'I'm so glad to see you again'!" the Devil said, smiling cheerfully down at the reptile.

"No, it isn't! Why did you have to come and bother me again so soon?"

"Soon? We haven't seen each other for six thousand three hundred and nineteen years, my dear."

"Exactly! You came at least ten thousand years too early!"

The Devil was a very emotional person, and very sensitive to the feelings of others. His well-developed sensitivity was slowly beginning to tell him that the snake might, for some strange reason, not be glad to see him.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, old friend, but you seem a trifle...frosty."

"Gee." The snake gave him a black reptile glare. "I wonder why that is."

"Oh, that." The devil cleared his throat hurriedly. "Well, all that was a long time ago, wasn't it? I would say let bygones be bygones! Water under the bridge! Forgiven and forgotten!"

"You would, would you?"

"Yes. Listen here, old friend. I've got a little problem. I can't find anyone who wants to commit my wonderful sins! You know how I hate my beautiful art going to waste, so I thought that you, perhaps, might be interested in—"

"Oh no! No, no, no!" The snake shook her head, and her tail-end, too, for emphasis. Rattling noises filled the little, grassy clearing. "I won't fall for that trick again! I remember all too well what happened last time I let you sweet-talk me, you rogue!"

The Devil opened his mouth to protest, but the snake was on a roll.

"Just wriggle yourself up that tree, he says!" she hissed. "Just whisper in that girl's ear a little, he says! Just tell her: Ye shall not surely die if thou eateth of the tree. For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil! Just tell her that, he said! I'll take you on a nice trip for the weekend on my flaming chariot, he says. And what do I say, young fool that I was? Yes, Mr. Lucifer, I really look forward to it, Mr. Lucifer! And I slither up that tree like a good little snake and whisper into the girl's ear and get her to eat the apple. And what happens next?"

"Well, my dear...maybe your memory is slightly overexagger—"

"Do I get a nice ride on a flaming chariot? Oh no, not I! When I show up for our date, Mr. Lucifer stands me up! And next thing I know—wham!—old graybeard appears, looking like a bunch of sour grapes, and tells me: Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life! And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel!"

The Devil cleared his throat delicately. "He always was a little grumpy. But on that day, he really must have gotten up on the wrong side of the cloud."

Carefully stroking her tail-end over her flattened head, the snake glared up at him. "Well, let me tell you, my head got bruised! A lot! And the having-no-legs thing? Yeah, that isn't so great either! So thank you, Mister, but no thank you! I'm not falling for your flashy smile and your great big flaming chariot again! I'm going steady with a python from the zoological gardens!"

And, with that, the snake turned around and slithered away.

***********

The snake had been his very last hope. After that had failed, the Devil became very depressed for a while. He even contemplated suicide, only there was that pesky problem of immortality! Maybe he could ask old graybeard to do something about that, but the old man probably wouldn't, just out of spite.

So the Devil roamed the world, looking high and low, left and right for a creature that might be seduced into sin. He looked on top of Mount Everest and in the deepest depths of the sea. He looked behind the sun and inside the moon. He looked behind garden sheds and inside moldy old cheese, hoping he'd find a few bacteria inclined towards sin.

Nothing. He found absolutely nothing.

One day, he was sitting in a café in a big city, listlessly watching the bustling crowd and drinking a sulphur-arsenic cocktail, when, behind him, he suddenly heard a voice say:

"You know, I'd sell my soul to the Devil if I could get that deal!"

The Devil's head jerked around one hundred eighty degrees. It probably broke his neck—but what the hell! He could always get another one.

All he could think of were the two men sitting right in front of him. They were sleek-looking, smartly dressed men in fine suits that looked very important. Both had suitcases with them, and all sorts of technical gadgets that kept beeping and spitting out numbers.

"Me, too," said the other man. "A deal like that is worth burning in hell for!"

Tears of joy entered the Devil's eyes. He smiled. Maybe all hope was not yet lost!

"Excuse me?" Rising, he stepped towards the two men. "I must confess I overheard you talking. What you said...let's just say, it sounds interesting. May I ask what you gentlemen do for a living?"

The two men jumped to their feet, taken aback. "We're bankers," said one of them. "Why?"

"Bankers!" The Devil sighed with relish. Humanity was not all lost to him! God be praised! Or...rather not, if he thought about it.

Laying an arm around one of the men's shoulders, he maneuvered him into a corner of the room. "I think we need to have a little talk."

And the moral of the story is: in banking, a splendid career awaits you!

Or, alternatively: don't go around giving girls apples to eat, or you might end up with no legs.

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My dear Lords, Ladies and Little Devils,

I hope you enjoyed this latest tale! If you were wondering why this story has such an unusual hero - it is written in tradition of the so-called "Teufelsmärchen" from my home country - fairy tales that don't feature fairies, but devils instead. What do you think of the concept? ;)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob (Devil's Advocate)