Hey There Demons, It's Me, Ya Boy

26: Maybe Simeon Ain't So Bad After All

A/N: No, he is NOT a love interest!

EDIT: So that was a fucking lie 💀

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Another day, another shift. You're devastated to be working on a Sunday, but oh well. It's not that bad actually, you're meeting so many interesting people and total weirdos here.

You're working at the cashier today, taking orders and already recognizing a few customers from your last shift. You smile as the next demon walks up, a dog on a leash by his side. Oh, you remember this guy. He actually speaks English!

"Hi, Tim. I see you got a dog," You greet warmly.

Tim nods, "You know it."

"What's their name?"

"Name is Tim."

You raise an eyebrow, "You... named your dog after yourself?"

"It's a solid name."

"Never heard of that."

"Can't go wrong."

You shrug, "Well, can he do any tricks?"

"Yeah, he talks just like me."

The dog lifts his head and nods at you, "Hey, what's up. I'm Tim."

You stare at the dog with wide eyes: "Wow. That's like uh-"

"-Pretty sweet, huh?" Tim grins.

"-Against nature." You nod.

"Yeah. It's fire, it's fire."

"What's next? Does he do your taxes for you, too?" You laugh.

"Oh, yeah. For sure. Tim, do my taxes." When Tim doesn't do anything, Tim pulls at his leash, "Do my taxes."

"Did you get your 1099 yet?" Tim asks.

Tim sighs, "Nah, not yet."

"Gotta follow up with the client about that."

"Yeah, I will."

"Gonna have to file another extension now."

You smack your lips after a moment of being stunned, "Wow, that was a-great trick."

Tim grins, "Yeah, I love dogs."

Like you said: total weirdo.

--

You're finally on your break, sitting alone at a booth against the window. You get off work at 6, and you can't wait to get home to sleep early for once. You were reading the book Satan had given you, drinking a vanilla iced coffee to wash down the breakfast burrito you had.

The book Satan gave you was The Princess Bride. You've loved the movie, but never read the actual book, so you were quite excited.

"Farm Boy, fetch me this"; "Get me that, Farm Boy-quickly, lazy thing, trot now or I'll tell Father."

"As you wish."

That was all he ever answered. "As you wish." Fetch that, Farm Boy. "As you wish." Dry this, Farm Boy. "As you wish." He lived in a hovel out near the animals and, according to Buttercup's mother, he kept it clean. He even read when he-

"Hello, [Y/n]."

You look up with a polite smile that turns genuine when you see who it is.

"Simeon! Hey!" You put the bookmark Satan let you borrow, marking your page and closing the book, "How are you, man?"