It was his fifth time performing the ritual, and Theodore was beginning to despair of anything actually happening

"And-ay eak-bray etween-bay e-thay orld-way ith-way ood-blay…"

He had bought the chant from an excommunicated priest in Africa, but he couldn't pronounce the Latin properly. And it had just sounded stupid in English.

"Ith-way ood-blay I-ay all-cay, ith-way ood-blay I-ay ind-bay…."

Theodore closed his eyes and raised his arms slowly, summoning the dark powers from across the barriers of beyond and within and without. He counted to ten under his breath and then let his arms fall again. He blew out one of the black candles he had carved with a silver knife under moonlight. He sighed. One day he was going to be the most powerful man in the world, and the denizens of the underworld would beg him for an audience. He would take great pleasure in shunning them.

Theodore moved to gather the candles, but he was interrupted by a crack like lightning through the air beside him. A dark shape appeared in a cloud of sulphur. Theodore gaped for a few moments before crying out, "It is I who called you forth into this world, my blood that binds you to my will, my every… um?"

The smoke cleared, and Theodore got his first good look at the demon he had summoned from Hell. He had been expecting something huge and hideous, with tentacles and claws and too many eyes, or a creature formed of shadow that fed on light and happiness, a thing whose roar would shake the life from his bones, and so was completely unprepared to be faced with a good looking man in a tailored suit and expensive sunglasses.

"Uh…."

The demon regarded Theodore for a second, and then looked down at circle which trapped it. "Nice," it said in an English accent. "Is that all your blood? Most people just kill a lamb or something."

"Yeah," said Theodore. "I've been collecting it for a couple months, like my own personal blood bank." He smiled momentarily over at the demon before remembering to scowl.

"Um," he said. "I am your master, Spawn of Satan. You can call me…" Theodore spread his arms, inviting the demon to take in the stainless steel control room of his lair. "Dr. Verruckt."

There was a strangled choking sound from behind him, but when Theodore turned, the demon was grinning faintly. Obviously impressed.

"German, then, are you?" it said.

"Yes," said Theodore. "On my grandfather's side." He looked severely at the demon. "He was a Nazi, and his evil lives in me, undiluted by blood or time."

The demon started coughing again. Theodore frowned. "Maybe you're not used to breathing the air up here?"

The demon coughed again into the back of its hand. It managed to get control, although its shoulders were still shaking. "That must be it," it agreed.

Theodore nodded, satisfied. "I am Dr. Verruckt," he continued, ignoring a last splutter from the demon. "And none shall forget that name, for I will burn it into the Earth. The peoples of the world will be mine to command, and those who displease me will be as ants under my feet. There will be a fear etched into the hearts of all men, and that fear will be me, and their women I will take at my choosing, or my whim. For I –"

"Yes, yes," interrupted the demon. "Immortality, total dominion, the power to smite your enemies into a smoking heap or impregnate nubile virgins; fine. You want to be God." Theodore glared at it, and it waved its hands in a placatory manner. "Look," it said, "I'm hardly about to get in the way of a healthy ambition here. It's just that I'm wondering if there was anything in particular you wanted me for."

"Um, right." Theodore struggled to maintain his Evil Glare. "Are you sure you don't want to hear the rest of my speech?"

The demon tightened its lips. "Maybe later," it said. "I've got an appointment in a few weeks, and I really don't want to be late."

"But I spent so long working on it," Theodore said. "I'm going to give it when I finally take over the world."

"Perfect," said the demon. "I'll tape it off CNN."

"Oh, okay." Theodore frowned. "Wait– You get CNN in Hell?"

The demon's smile widened, and some leftover instinct from the bit of Theodore that had once been an early muskrat wanted to skitter into a dark corner. "Well, they have to find out what's going on somehow, and I find there's a great deal less paperwork this way. And it's great PR."

"Um?"

"Never mind." The demon glanced at a sleek black watch of the sort Theodore planned to buy when the world was his currency. "I assume you had a reason for calling me forth and all that?"

"And binding you with my blood to do my bidding? Yes." Theodore took some papers from a console and set them down quickly in the circle. "I was hoping, uh, that is, if it isn't too much trouble, if you could look over my plan and see if it's alright, please?"

The demon stared blankly at him for a few seconds and then picked up the blueprints. Theodore watched anxiously as it flipped through them, but he couldn't tell what it was thinking behind the sunglasses. After a minute it held the papers out to the edge of the circle, and Theodore snatched them back.

"Well?" he asked.

"Hmm," said the demon. "It's a good plan, I'll give you that."

Theodore sighed in relief. "I knew it," he said. "I knew I was an Evil Genius."

"Hmm," said the demon, noncommittally.

"What is it?" Theodore glanced down at the papers. "What's wrong? You just said it was good."

"Well, that's it right there," said the demon. "It's not exactly an Evil plan, now, is it?"

"What do you mean?" said Theodore. "Didn't you see the part about the stolen nuclear warhead?"

"Sure."

"And? That's Evil, isn't it?"

The demon shrugged. "If it was a really Evil plan," it said, "you wouldn't just fire the missiles. You'd make some sort of ridiculous demand first and destroy them when they can't pay up."

"But, but, I don't want to warn them," stammered Theodore. "I want the world to be confused and frightened and without leadership. This isn't about any demands."

"That's hardly the point," the demon said. "And this deadly flesh-eating bug you've collected?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there an antidote?"

"An intense run of fast-acting antibiotics and immediate removal of any affected tissues?" said Theodore, slightly wary.

The demon shook his head slowly. "No. See, if you're going to have a disease in an Evil plan, it has to be something with an impossibly effective antidote you keep neatly labelled in a vault somewhere.

Theodore raised a hand to his forehead. "Anything else?"

The demon grinned at him. "You know that secret entrance you've got rigged with nerve gas against the possibility of intruders?"

"Let me guess," said Theodore. "There aren't any secret entrances in Evil plans."

"Of course there are," said the demon. "Very important, your secret entrances. I just wouldn't defend them with nerve gas, if it were me."

"And what would you use?"

"Those giant swinging axes are always classic," it said. "Or monkeys."

"Monkeys!" Theodore giggled before he could stop himself. "What good are monkeys?"

"Monkeys are pretty dangerous, you know. Some of them can bench press cars. And you could give them weapons."

"And monkeys are more Evil than nerve gas?"

"Hey, which one of us is the expert at this sort of thing?" asked the demon. "Trust me, nothing says 'Evil' like ninja monkeys with lightsabers."

Theodore walked towards the computer console, muttering "Monkeys" and trying to decide if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"Well, Dr. Verrückt, I'll have to go now, but how about I stop in later to see how you're getting on." There was a companionable pat on his shoulder, but when Theodore spun around the demon was back in the circle of blood. It waved cheerfully at him and vanished in a puff of brimstone.

A few hours later, one of Dr. Verrückt's minions came in to mop up the floor. "There you go," he said. "I told you you'd get the Evil laughter figured out eventually."