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A "666" STEP PROGRAM

The powdered donuts tasted like ashes in my mouth, the coffee weak and lukewarm. Wiping my chin with the cheap, one-ply napkins provided, I sat my unwanted snack aside and made my way slowly to the front of the room. Tugging nervously at the lapels of my tweed jacket, I stepped reluctantly behind the podium and adjusted the microphone to accommodate my considerable height.

Five sets of eyes watched my every move and their questioning, expectant stares were almost more than I could bare. Though we were all here for similar reasons, I momentarily considered walking right out the door and forgetting about such nonsense.

A promise was a promise, however, so I cleared my throat and spoke those nine words of commitment, "Hello, my name is Azrael and I'm a demon."

I do not know what I had expected, but the enthusiastic clapping was very reassuring and some of my trepidation vanished.

"Hmm, where to begin," I mumbled to myself as I tapped the podium with a well manicured finger. "I guess I should start at the beginning. I've plagued mankind since the dawn of time. I was very good at my work and some of my greater accomplishments are still lauded in most infernal circles. I was on the fast track to success and most of my hellish associates agreed that the next Demon Lord vacancy would assuredly be mine. My ascension was assured after that little medieval exploit commonly referred to as the Black Death."

"A few centuries later, with humanity flocking to the newly discovered Americas, I was promoted to my long coveted position. Let me be the first to tell you, virgin territory is the sweetest and ripest you could possibly imagine. Revolutions, slavery, and religious persecutions, I'm particularly proud of the Salem witch trials, I had it all and so much more. Now you might wonder what could possibly go wrong, but believe me, the expression too much of a good thing is unfortunately true."

Eventually, the Americas settled down and the opportunities for real mischief declined. Oh, there were still a few high points like the Civil War and the oppression of the Native Americans, but the novelty of the situation was fading fast. It was in the early part of the twentieth century when I finally decided to retire."

"My superiors tried to talk me out of it and even trumped up a little excitement, World War I, to try and regain my interest, but I was adamant. I spent several decades in hell cooling my heels, figuratively speaking, and delighting in the unholy

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