Fifteen
My stomach was rumbling by the time the first human guests arrived. Two women with fake devil horns and pitchforks presented their tickets at the door, already a little tipsy. My phone buzzed but I ignored it in favour of the customers.
One of them gestured to my head. “Woooo. I love your horns! They’re so realistic. Where did you buy them?”
“Hell,” I answered seriously.
The two of them cackled at what they thought was a great joke.
I smiled, playing along. “This way, ladies. Here are your wristbands for the evening. If you show them to the bartender over there, you’ll get your first cocktail for free,” I explained as I handed them their paper bracelets. Rick was supposed to mark the bands when they received their free drink but it would be easy to abuse the system and get mor
