"Directors of Hell," I began grandly, spreading my arms wide. "Leaders, captains and commanders…rulers of your domains, experts of your crafts, idols of your underlings…."
"You know, I can't speak for everyone else here, but I've got actual work to do," a green female demon in the back piped up irreverantly. "Can we skip the theatrics and get this over with?"
I glared at her. She was an intimidating demon—taller than most, broader than most, and more pissed-off-looking than most. Which was saying something. "Who are you?" I snapped, hoping to treat her roughly. I had no intention of letting someone disrespect me and get away with it in a room filled with so many powerful players. My heckler only crossed her arms and stared at me.
"What is your name?" I asked. She raised her eyebrows defiantly. It was a silent challenge.
"Somebody tell me who this bitch is," I said in exasperation.
"This is Diseppia," General Gavsot said.
"And what Department is she making a strong case to have herself fired from?" I asked.
Gavsot paused. "Waste Management."
"Waste Management?" I echoed. Surely I'd misheard.
"Waste Management," the general confirmed.
"Waste Management!" I crowed. The challenger to my authority was a glorified garbage woman? "What an exciting field! You must take great pride in your work, Diseppia."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Do you have any concept of the sheer volume of excretions and bodily fluids produced by the damned souls?"
"Oh, so instead of gathering the trash, you scoop up the poop and mop up the vomit!" I summarized.