The seats around the table were finally filled by “The Board”, all beautifully tailored in the finest Savile Row suits from charcoal to a daring pin stripe at the head of the Table. Sammael looked on. He had be known by various names and titles: The Fallen One, Asmodeus, Satan or his favourite one – Dad. Hell had been his pet project for many millennia but know those earthly Millennials were doing it all for him and instead of falling back on his dear old father for help in times of hardship they searched Google instead. He inwardly smiled as he listened to “The Partners” in turn.
Mammon was rather plump man dressed resplendently in midnight black, ivory shirt and gold cufflinks bearing obscenely pure diamonds. He read a number rich report written in platinum which he dripped with excitement over the sheer volumes of debt each major post industrialised country had accrued because of his brethren’s machinations, which of course would need funding from the World Bank (front for Mammon inc.).
Bealzebub buzzed with boredom, bedecked in a bottle green suit, blue shirt. He was a muscular individual with a huge bluebottle head which looked through many faceted eyes only towards “The Boss” at the head of the table. He recounted the various lies and intrigues which were presently going on from little Sally lying about her homework to his best work of The Pope actually pretending that the arch bishop didn’t guess where his battleship was in a very ill tempered game. They hadn’t had a Pope visiting in years and due to this a cubical was being freshly valeted for such an occasion.
Mephistopheles wearing a shiny grey suit, white shirt and a garish tie, looked like the consummate salesman he was. Everything was about the deal, even though deals these days were more implied than the old “Faustian Pacts”. He had moved with the times and now through late night informertials, click bate and spam, souls harvesting was at a high. People maybe wise to his “Nigerian general scam” where pledging your immortal souls would garner you a free £50 but they never read the small print when clicking online for free soap. He was so happy, lots of souls but also a lot of soap re purchasing too, which made Mammon happy.
Belial looked stern at the foot of table, he was still in his lab coat open to show of his blue suit. Looking at his tablet he mentioned the various research which he had spurring humankind to make advances in. Upstairs had tried to counter the humans wanting to do clone research by bring ethics into it and He hated that. Always bloody upstairs with ethics but they really took the eye off the ball with the Atomic bomb, he was waiting for those halcyon days of research again.
Astaroth in charcoal attire had his bespectacled head buried in a ledger writing down the minutes of the meeting for all to read later that century. He reminded them about the previous meeting where they had decided to try advance the world in several war footings, mainly as they wanted to see if the other side would counter such moves but they actually seemed even more emboldened to see the whole world burn as if they realised that maybe they were fighting a losing battle against human nature.
All of them looked as Asrael next to Satan who at least had the temerity to hold his hands up and blush. The “great beast of war” (which was on his coffee mug) smiled, his red suit glistened with atomic fire as he noted that world wars and ideas of total atomic annihilation had actually this century caused a malaise against the usual ethics but he had seen growth in various sectors of faith, racial and totalitarian attacks which had been blamed on the other side. He noted they had to see human suffering back through the lens of the good old days of the Crusades where they had really got a good yield of souls from wars fought in “His” name. Life was good at present, for “The Board” not so much for humankind.
Satan said a whispered “Thank You” and the meeting came to a close.