Watch and pray lest you enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. ~ Matthew 26:41

Tricklane, one of Satan’s cleverest helpers, was standing outside a house on Stone Canyon Road in Bel-Air, a swanky community built high on the hills south of the San Fernando Valley, just northwest of Beverly Hills. The fallen angel was talking to Scumbert, a frog demon who knew about Rodney Simplessohn and his power to see the spiritual realm. It was nighttime in Los Angeles. The sun had set spectacularly over the Pacific in a haze of pink and grey smog. Tricklane and Scumbert could see the silhouette of a beautiful actress in her 20s walking through her well-lit kitchen. Demon snakes slithered along her countertops.

“She’s one of my most recent success stories, Scumbert. She used to be passionate about God when I first learned of her existence. Even though she ate ramen noodles every night for dinner in her shabby North Hollywood apartment, she still shared what little she had with anyone in need. Now look at her.”

“How did she—ribbit—get so successful? Godliness doesn’t always lead to this sort of life.”

“All of this success, money, and fame was my gift to her. Now she has her own macrobiotic chef, washes her hair with Evian water, and holds onto every last cent. She’s so busy working, she never has the time or energy to help anyone. She feels completely condemned by that fact, thanks to me. And instead of remembering how much God loves her, she’s obsessed with her hair, her face, and which expensive car she should be seen driving. It’s wonderful.”

“Oh—craaaakik! You golden-handcuffed her, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Nothing turns compassionate givers into selfish jerks faster than a huge income and a wallop of guilt. It works every time.”

“You’re very—ribbit—wise, sir. Rodney’s house is on the other side of this hill and up that avenue.”

“Let’s proceed, then.”

Soon the two demonic beings were standing outside the Simplessohn’s house on a modest street in the San Fernando Valley. “Well, he’s not rich. We might be able to use that,” Tricklane was saying to his frog-shaped sidekick. Scumbert hopped up into the branches of a large tree and croaked out, “You can see into his room from up here.” Soon Tricklane was up in the tree, too, peering into Rodney’s room.

Dominion Angel Barook shivered and looked up from where he was standing over Rodney’s shoulder. Rodney was seated at his desk in his room, digging through the Bible at Barook’s prodding. “We’re not alone tonight” said Barook, rolling his eyes from Rodney to the window in an attempt to subtly signal the kid.

Rodney very unsubtly craned his head around and peered over his shoulder into the night. “I don’t see anything.” Just then some leaves on the tree outside his window fluttered as two demonic beings ducked out of view.

“I see what you mean,” said Tricklane, holding his crouched position in the tree underneath Rodney’s window sill.  “That dominion angel of his already has him reading the Bible. That’s not good. But he’s young. His faith can’t be that well established yet. It doesn’t seem like he’s been through many trials. He probably doesn’t fully understand the power of his righteousness in Christ. I certainly haven’t heard of him before now, so it’s not like he is a great prayer warrior or anything.” Tricklane slowly pulled himself up to peer through the window again.

“Snack break!” announced Rodney. Barook threw his hands up in the air as Rodney pulled a Kit Kat out of his desk drawer and began munching away.

Tricklane snickered with delight. “Oh, he’s a lover of snacks, is he? Good. That’s one sign of being enslaved by fleshly desires. Let’s hope he’s slothful and lustful as well.” Scumbert nodded his knobby head in agreement. Tricklane continued, “Teenage boys are frightfully easy to lead astray. Here’s the plan I’ll present to the boss: we discredit him with a bit of porn, some pot, and a fight at school and our work here is done. No Christians will take his advice after that. It doesn’t matter how important or true his message is if his personality is full of flaws. It works every time.”

“You’re a—ribbit—genius!” Scumbert blurted.

“I know,” sighed Tricklane happily.