Jacob Rothschild Traps Satan in Insurmountable Debt

HELL, FOURTH DIMENSION—After only two weeks in the realm of eternal torment, Jacob Rothschild is reportedly dwelling in a sprawling, air-conditioned mansion in Hell’s exclusive Harvey Milk Estates. Satan, we have learned, is now only nominally in charge the netherworld, and has to check with Mr. Rothschild before instituting any new soul-stealing or soul-pulverizing policies.

“This damned guy,” a visibly agitated Satan said, with no apparent irony, in an exclusive interview. “He makes it sound like everything’s gonna be blistering agony and face-devouring bats, so you accept a loan, thinking you can finally take this soul destruction gig to the next level…and the next thing you know, you’re paying interest on your interest, it’s mathematically impossible to get out of the red, and you have to take a second job.”

The evil one laments, “I used to just sit on my throne and drink Bud Light all eternity. Now I have to get down in the sulfur pits myself, ripping out entrails of the damned for full shifts, working right alongside FDR and Martin Luther King.”

Satan (real name Murray Mestofolynski) is extremely frustrated with recent developments in Hell.

Why doesn’t the prince of darkness just rend the soul of the parasitic money-changer to pieces forevermore?

Sighing, Satan explains, “The law of the universe, to which even I am subject, says I must abide by the terms of the contract. If I try to regain control by, for example, inserting a splintery pole into Mr. Rothschild’s rectum and jamming it in until it comes out of his mouth, and then roasting him on a spit for 20,000 years while jazz plays at bone-destroying decibels, I will be the one ultimately punished. I may find myself having to converse eternally with Sam Harris, or perhaps be forced to take a turn as Hilary Clinton’s girlfriend.”

What does this mean for the future of damnation?

“My real fear is that this place will end up like California. I’m already seeing a lot of these short, illiterate demons from the thirteenth dimension flooding in, and they simply don’t have the IQs or work ethics—on average, I mean, there are some really good ones—to make people genuinely regret earthly folly. I just know old ‘Lord’ Rothschild is funding this invasion through some shell outfit—and with my own damned money!”

The maestro of misery is attempting to remain philosophical. “I guess it’s my fault. I spawned these banking elites. But the whole thing just burns me up.”