Noticeably shaken, one of the two remaining prosecutors spoke up. “So - Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub – does it matter what your name is?” he spat. “Does the fault lie with those who do not know your name? The rituals and the foul violence that you sponsor – do they depend upon your name? Do the scare tactics depend upon your name? Or your mood? Your reasons for this? “How many ways can you throw stones in other directions to stay away from facing the matter at hand, sir?!” he continued angrily. “Make me vomit if you will, show the world my sins, nail me to the wall, and imprint 666 upon my chest if you so, please! None of that will change the fact that my clients are suing you, Lucifer, and that you owe them – you know that you do!” He was shaking with rage, spit flecked from the corners of h
