Guess who's coming to dinner...

-EDG

--

Kobal was becoming impatient.

Regardless of which Demon Prince you are, regardless of how highly you think of yourself, you 
do not turn down a request for a meeting from the being who is, at least nominally, 
coordinating the military arm of the entirety of what you believe in.  But now Baal was half an 
hour late, and the bad Chinese version of "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown", being sung by an even worse 
Chinese lounge band, was starting to grate on his nerves.

He shouldn't have been surprised that the song was playing; it was one of his adoptive 
brother's restaurants (God help him, Haagenti actually liked the song), but the Prince of 
Gluttony had gone typically overboard.  The name of the restaurant was the Leroy Brown Lounge.  
Everybody who worked there was a damned soul who went by the name of Leroy Brown.  The only 
song ever played in the restaurant was "Leroy Brown"... and Haagenti never seemed to get tired 
of it.

Kobal hated it.

But, this was where Baal had asked him to meet.  Kobal knew enough of the rules of Hell to 
realize that should he leave, Baal would immediately show up and proceed to lay into him for 
leaving.  (This was not a conscious imitation of Lucifer's waiting-room policy, Kobal knew; 
rather, it was Murphy's Law combined with an application of Baal's personality.)  The Demon 
Prince of the War gave the most damaging dressings-down of anyone in all of creation; Kobal had 
seen *Kronos* flinch when Baal was in top form.

The only other creature in the lounge who didn't work there seemed to be a Djinn, although the 
celestial form was all wrong; this one seemed to be a *human*, or at least a humanoid, with 
bat-wings, although Kobal wasn't immediately sure what sort of humanoid, as the Djinn's back 
was turned.  Still, all demons - at least, in the eyes of Princes - were immediately 
distinguishable by Band, regardless of shape, and this one was definitely a Stalker.

It made sense, at least.  Only a Stalker would have the aloofness required to withstand "Leroy 
Brown" on infinite repeat.

Kobal looked again.  The Djinn had a familiar aura about it... no, *her*.  The way she moved, 
the tone of her voice... Kobal was sure he'd seen her somewhere before.  Ah well, he thought.  
As long as I'm here, I might as well have a little fun.  He'd had some bad pick-up lines saved 
up for a while.  Heading over to the bar, where the Stalker was occupying a stool as only 
Stalkers can, he slid smoothly into the seat next to her.  "Excuse me," he said, in his best 
Jock, "but has anyone ever told you that you have amazing..."

Kobal's jaw does not drop often.

The Djinn smiled.  "Oh, hello, Kobal," she said sweetly.  "Miss me?  I know I've been away for 
a while, but your brother and I struck a bargain recently.  He goes to the top, I go free.  You 
didn't think he was always hungry because he was Gluttony, did you?"

Kobal was speechless.

"Listen, Baal won't be making your meeting.  He fell ill, the poor dear; a sudden case of 
reintegration into the Symphony.  So you can run along with no fear of retribution."  Her smile 
grew teeth.  "It's something I'd suggest, personally.  Besides... isn't this song plucking 
about your last nerve?"

Kobal nodded.  "It's, um... been good seeing you again," he said, slinking off the bar stool 
and toward the door as fast as he could go.

The Djinn giggled to herself and slugged back the drink the bartender gave her.  Behind her, 
the lounge group started up "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" again, this time in Korean, which made the 
Djinn laugh out loud.  "God, I love this song," she said.  "Leroy!  Two more of these.  I've 
got some catching up to do."