Playing Devil's Advocate

2// A Sheep In A Wolf's Skin

I'm a believer. I believe that God made this earth and I believe that the Devil is a dark force. I don't believe that this university aged bartender looking like he's just walked off the set of Hairspray is the Devil himself. This aside, I can't deny that his shark like stare sends a shiver down my spine.

He waits patiently for me to speak. It's almost like we're in a game of chess and he's just made his move, but the more I look into those fiery eyes, the more they resemble a big cat ready to pounce. I open my mouth, instantly regretting it but unfortunately lacking the ability to stop myself.

"Well come on now... that's not fair. It's just perception. The right lawyers can make Jeffrey Dahmer into a saint and Nelson Mandela a villain. I stand by the lord, but may I say, sir, you'd make a fine lawyer yourself," I say with a smile. Flattery is deception in pretty packaging.

He puts a hand up as if to signal that I should stop talking but I feel that I'm on a role with persuading him to leave me alone so I may as well add a threat.

"And by the way, this still stands as a holy place of worship and I could get you kicked out, so please be mindful," I say with an eyebrow raise.

He roles his eyes as I keep talking, before springing to life after a few seconds of silence, as if being woken up after dosing off.

"You done?" He asks with an air of arrogance, continuing after I nod. "And really dude? A place of worship? Actually, you're right, I'm sure those hippies by the bathroom are just taking paracetamol together."

I curl my lip in annoyance before adding "look, are you seriously here telling me I'm somehow morally wrong for supporting God, when you're pretending to be the devil. An anagram of evil, plus the d." 

He giggles as I say "plus the d" and I try painstakingly hard to keep a straight face.

Once he's done laughing, he stares me dead in the eyes before saying, "look, Mr, I'm not questioning your morals. This isn't about morals. This is about you fearing me because Satan has risen and happens to be serving your Strongbow."

Trying to ignore my goosebumps, I stare him head on.

"You're not Satan. And I don't fear you." Once I've finished speaking, I'm relieved not to have shivered.

He throws his head back and laughs the loudest laugh I've heard yet.

"What's so funny?" I ask bitterly.

"Do you know the expression wolf in a sheepskin?"

I nod uncertainly as he continues.

"It refers to a wolf, a witty and malicious beast, posing as a regular, innocent sheep."

I roll my eyes, the adrenaline boosting my confidence, before I snap at him. "I told you I know what it means. I also do happen to know what a sheep is, thank you very much, and when was the last time anyone actually used the word malicious?"

He continues to laugh before he continues to patronisingly explain.

"My point is, you're the exact opposite. You're a sheep in a wolf's skin. A sheep is a normal, innocent person who naturally fears the devil. I can see that my mere presence makes you shake, but here you are, acting like a wolf, a Maverick who doesn't fear the definition of fear itself. A sheep in a wolf's skin."

Defeated, I wave my hand as if to say whatever. "Believe me, you're deranged and the only way you could possibly be making me feel fear is by making me severely worried for you and the state you'll be in when you play these games with people less forgiving than me."

He nods. "Okay, big guy, okay. Maybe that is the only way I can inflict fear on you. That, and of course, this."

The sound is unmistakable even over the monotone chatter of the crowded room. A click. 

My heart stops dead. 

From my barstool, I can't see over the bar but I can deduce from the motions of his hands and that dreadful sound exactly what's going on.

'Lucifer' just cocked a pistol.

I'm terrified into silence. I try pleading for forgiveness but I can't get to please without stammering. He simply murmurs one word.

"Idiot."

After taking a deep breath, I try to reason in a more controlled tone.

"What do you want from me? Money? I come from a good background, p-please just-"

He cuts me off with a swipe of the hand. "Is it not obvious, you incompetent IDIOT? I want your soul."

I stare up at him, a surge of relief kicking in as it occurs to me that he's no less insane and I can use that to my advantage, whether or not he's armed. I'll probably just have to partake in some strange ritual. I apprehensively ask him how I can meet his demands and a grin spreads across his face.

"I'll let you in a little secret. This bar... it isn't just a bar. You see over there, the staircase behind the kitchen that's blocked off? That's a spot where some very dangerous people like to hang out. If you don't catch what I'm trying to say, this is a front for a pretty notorious street gang. In about an hour, a man who screwed over the gang is going to enter, thinking that he's meeting a girl from tinder. The gang wants him dead, but to avoid suspicion, they planned on hiring someone to make it look like a terrorist attack. When you're the universe's most powerful demon, you sometimes find that there's a lot of time on your hands, time that I've used to make connections with the gang. I told them I knew the perfect guy. So it all works out - I don't shoot you and you even get to keep the bounty money, provided that once the target walks in here, you put a hole in every person in this room's head."