The demon kept silent for a minute, watching Darnell flicking the old scratched Zippo with an engraving.

“By the way, I’ve heard about Friday. No, not like that - FRIDAY, in capital letters! You’ve done so much that day!” the demon laughed hoarsely and flapped his wings.

“I did?” Darnell pulled a long face.

“Sure, who else! They say the boss was bawling so loud that could be heard in my world?”

“Are you asking me?” the man specified.

“Of course you, you are the one he was yelling at,” the demon teased him.

“Listen, but you are the one who knows well: I must have dispersed that minion.”

“But he was only the minion of Gusion! He would have answered your questions and just got out of there.”

“Answered?!” Darnell lost his temper. “Do you know what Gordon has done after seeing him?”

“That inscriber?”

“Yes, the inscriber!” the man nodded abruptly. “That blockhead daubed a pentagram and a circle of protection! Outside! And it started to rain! Everything was washed out to hell! The demon was so happy that he jumped on Gordon, and do you know what that pussy did?”

“Of course I do!” Cyril tried to stop his verbal stream.

“He shrieked like a pig and put a whole magazine of bullets into him! I say, the common ones! And just ran away leaving me alone!” Darnell waved his hand and nearly dropped the almost empty bottle, but the demon caught it easily and returned to its place. “And for this, the boss was shouting at me for over an hour!”

“Ours are also discussing this occasion. You know well that according to the Treaty it is not allowed to simply kill minions…”

“Your kind is discussing”, grumbled the man angrily. “He’ll revive in your world anyway, so who cares?!”

“If you have finished your course a couple of years ago, you could have been an official inscriber by yourself”, reminded him the demon. “But you decided “to show” them all.”

“The commission is a bunch of puffed gobblers, you know that”, Darnell killed a bottle of his whiskey and looked at the empty glass with squinty eyes.

“Well, well, things will work out, as they always do”, Cyril patted him friendly on his shoulder. “By the way, shouldn’t you be in the office tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, in the office”, the man waved his head weakly.

“Darn, looks like you are done”, the demon pointed out with care.

“Done”, the man sighed back.

He got up wiggling. He took out a few banknotes from his pocket and threw them on the counter not even looking at them. After this, he carefully passed over his chair.

“Just don’t tell me you’re on your old rattletrap”, the demon watched him go.

“No. I’m on foot,” mumbled Darnell.

“Oh well. Then, catch you tomorrow!” The demon happily twitched his membranous wings and blew off the heap of ash that was sprinkled by his interlocutor. The man waved him in return and went to the exit.