Damian stood in his kitchen, hefting the ex-beast over his shoulder. “Alright,” he declared, “Time for us to be rid of this… thing.”
“Karkling demon,” Aziramin offered.
“I don’t care if it’s King Bob of Assworld, Home of Eternal Depravity. It has to make its exit before certain people of the angry, fiery variety make their entrance. So this thing—”
“Karkling demon.”
“Just open the window, will you?”
Aziramin nodded dutifully and rushed over to the window, undoing the latch, and exposing them to the cold October air. Damian walked over and peered out. At the bottom, in the alley, there was a dumpster. It was one of the two-door variety. One door was down. The other was open.
Perfect.
“One sec,” Damian said, straightening up. He made sounds that made Aziramin cringe and groan. Damian
