Mike Wallace's Supernatural Bar & Grill 4: Lydia's Tale
By The Wordmaster




Like a banshee's wail, it tore through my head. Piercing, mind-numbingly painful notes shrilled through the air, assaulting me at every turn. I clutched my head in agony, but still the reverberations and off-key squeals continued, shaking me to my very core, robbing me of my strength, my will to live.

"Oh yes, it's Ladies' Night! And we feel all right!"

I hate Karaoke.

I would not be surprised to find out that every major war was somehow linked to somebody getting fed up with somebody else's inability to sing. 'Why do I tolerate this?' I moaned inwardly, only to have the cutting response come back: 'Because they want it.'

They were the women. Once per year, Mike Wallace's closes its doors to the males of the universe and allows only members of the "weaker" sex to enter. With one exception. Me. Mike Wallace, alone in a room full of sexy broads of every shape, size, and description. Call me a sexist pig if you must, but who among you would turn down the opportunity? I thought so. The feminine mystique does wonders for the male machismo, and as long as I was surrounded by gorgeous babes, I was willing to put up with the torment of their hideously off-key singing.

I was very busy that night, scampering about like an organ-grinder's monkey, taking orders, serving drinks, flirting with foxy ladies, the usual. I was in the middle of putting the moves on a blue-skinned Venusian when...

"Hiya, handsome," purred a deliciously throaty growl. There was only one being in existence who could send chills of rapture down my spine with nothing more than a spoken greeting.

"Demonica!" I exclaimed as I turned, coming face to face with the sexy demoness. Well, face to cleavage. I still haven't perfected the art of maintaining eye contact while conversing with women.

"Up here, big guy," she giggled. I pulled my eyes up to her face and was only slightly disappointed. Demonica was a knockout. Coal black hair, fiery red lips, deep, dark eyes, and a dusky complexion. How else should a demoness look? She wore a tight, slinky red dress and red stiletto heeled sandals.

"Dressed to kill, eh Demonica?"

"Always," she replied, reaching forwards and tracing a finger along my chest. I swallowed hard and reached hesitantly towards her. She playfully slapped my hand away. "There'll be plenty of time for that later, tiger. Right now, I'd like you to meet someone." She stepped aside and gestured grandly to the woman who stood behind her. My breath caught in my throat. Never had I seen someone so radiant! Long blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft, silky waves, framing a delicate, childlike face. Rosy cheeks and soft lips smiled shyly. A full length white toga, immaculately clean and sparkling, did its best to hide curves that rivaled those of the most expensive strippers. But most amazing of all were two downy wings that sprang from her shoulderblades, delicately fanning what had to be an angel.

When I finally found my voice, I choked out a semi-intelligible greeting. "M-m-m-m-m...."

"Mike Wallace," supplied Demonica, taking my hand and bringing it to the newcomer's, "meet Lydia."

"We don't get many of your kind here," I stammered.

In a voice softer than the hand I was desperately trying not to let go of, she replied, "I know. It's not allowed where I'm from." She glanced upwards. "But after tonight..." she sighed a heart-wrenching sigh.

"What's wrong?" I asked, more concerned than I had ever been in my life.

Demonica stepped in. "It was a contest."

***

"Can not!" spoke the Darkness.

"Can so!" thundered the Light.

"Prove it!" challenged the Evil.

"I will!" answered the Good.

With deafening explosions, the opposing sides disappeared, leaving their minions behind. Standing on what was once a glorious battlefield, demon and angel alike sighed in reservation. Approaching each other from opposite directions, the forces of good met with the forces of evil. Raising their weapons high in salute, they reluctantly let them fall to their sides again. A moment of depressing silence hung over the group like a stifling fog. Finally it was broken.

"Whatever happened to the good old days, Beezy?" asked Gabriel.

"I dunno, Gabe," answered Beelzebub. "But what I wouldn't give to have 'em back."

"I hear that!" interjected Michael. "We haven't had an honest-to-gosh war in... gee, how long has it been?"

"Too long," replied Baal. "If you ask me, The Big Guy and Lucifer have gone soft. All this sneaking around may be nice for keeping things quiet, but..."

Gabriel slumped to the ground, cupping his chin in his hands. "I know what you mean. Ever since that Job incident, The Lord God Almighty, all praise be unto Him for ever and ever and ever and..."

Beelzebub rolled his eyes. "He's not here, y'know."

"Oh, thank heavens. He figured all-out war wasn't as productive as one on one combat."

"Which means," spat Baal, "that we're out of a job."

"For a while, anyway," spoke Michael. "The grand finale is on its way. And when it comes..." he smacked his fist into his palm.

"Yeah, sure. Armageddon is sure takin' its sweet time, though."

"So," Gabriel wheezed, slapping his hands on his knees and struggling to rise in his heavy armor. "Who's the target?"

"Some guy named Pete..."

***

"Hold on a second!" I exclaimed. "You mean that's how God and Satan settle their disputes? No fire? No brimstone? No wrath and judgment?"

"Not for a while, sugar," replied Demonica. "Now pipe down and let Lydia finish."

"Thanks, De," Lydia smiled sweetly, melting my heart and my ability to form complete sentences. "So, each side had to pick a single combatant to go after the target..."

***

"Awright folks!" bawled the drill sergeant, "It's yer standard Job clause! One contestant per side will be allowed to interact with the target: Pete Smith. Background history has already been sent to each side. The specified time period is one night, the specified form of communication is dream sequence. Are the terms agreeable with each side?"

"Yes," boomed Jehovah.

"Yeah, sure," grated Lucifer.

"Challengers, you will have twenty four Earth hours to return with your contestants. Dismissed!"

***

Deep in the fiery bowels of Hell, above the dentist's chair and just to the left of the eternal disco, the Directors of the Application of Mankind's Ne'erending Eternal Damnation (D.A.M.N.E.D.) shut off the muzak long enough to engage in a heated argument over what Hell's propagandists were already calling The Victory Of The Millennium. Cloaked in darkness, wreathed in flames, the head demons squabbled like little kids in the backseat of a long car ride.

"I still say we should use a telemarketer! One call and that soul is ours!"

"That is the worst idea I've ever heard. Your telemarketers haven't scored a soul since mankind realized they could just hang up!"

"Oh, and I suppose you'd suggest using a lawyer?"

"Stick with what works, I say. Traditional is the way to go."

"Why don't we do what we did in the olden days? Smite his family, blight his crops, give him the old boils and sores."

"You said 'the old boils and sores' were a shoe-in for making Job curse God too. And look what happened then!"

"Stop bringing up Job! I am sick and tired of you whining about the one little time I messed up! 'Job' this and 'Job' that!"

"You seriously think a lawyer is better than a telemarketer? Name me one successful lawyer!"

"Jackie Chiles."

"That doesn't count. O.J. sold his soul to us for one of Hell's finest. We can't go wasting Jackie on every little complication!"

"Oh, and the telemarketer is going to work. 'Hello, Mr. Smith? Would you be interested in purchasing double-ply, waterproof, insulated siding for your home?' Click!"

"You take that back!"

"Never!"

A single voice slid its way between the arguments like a well-oiled snake. "Gentlemen, please," Satan himself deadpanned. "Didn't any of you get my memo?"

A brief silence reigned in the board room. "I-it must have gotten lost in filing, sir," came a tremulous voice.

"Damn this beauracracy! It's working better than we had planned. Allright, here's the deal: Pete Smith is a lustful, woman-crazed sexaholic. If we're gonna hit him, we're gonna hit him where it hurts. My colleagues, I'd like you to meet my secretary."

With a grand gesture from the Hand of Darkness, the door opened and in walked a tall, sultry female form. The 'thud' of jaws dropping was clearly audible.

"Hello, boys," purred Demonica, "Let's go get 'em."

***

Meanwhile, in the cloudy kingdom of Heaven, the angels gathered around the throne, enjoying the last refrains of the Beatles "Yellow Submarine."

Gabriel wiped a tear from his eye. "It's beautiful," he sniffed.

Michael echoed the sympathies. "Truly a wonderful band, O Lord."

Jehovah smiled down at his reverent subject. "Thanks, pal. Now, let's get down to business... wait, where is My Son?"

Raphael looked up. "Oh, J.C. and The Boyz are out playing volleyball."

The Lord chuckled. "Oh, those disciples and their volleyball. Well, let's get started. Has everyone been briefed?"

"Yes, sir," came the chorus of replies.

"Than you know how best to go about this Pete Smith situation?"

"Well, not best, Lord," admitted Gabriel, lowering his eyes. "I mean, only You would know what's best..."

Another mighty chuckle. "True, true. Well, here's the gameplan. Hell's going to go with the old 'hit him where it hurts' plan, so we've got to come up with a contestant that can keep Pete's mind out of the gutter. Any suggestions?"

"Mother Teresa?" answered Michael.

"No, I think she's earned a break."

"Princess Di?" voiced Raphael.

"Hmmm... no. The paparazzi'd be all over her."

The archangels huddled together and discussed. "The Virgin Mary?" they tried.

"Uh-uh. She's due to appear in a burrito in Mexico tomorrow night."

"Well, there's always the new girl." piped up Gabriel.

"Oh? Is she chaste?"

"Very chaste."

"Of good moral character?"

"The best."

"Pious?"

"The... er... piousest?"

"Very well then, Gabriel. I trust you. Bring Lydia up here right away."

***

"And that's how De and I met," Lydia continued.

"Yeah, we hit it off right away," De added.

***

"I hope you know I'm gonna kick your pasty white ass, girlfriend," sneered Demonica as she and her angelic opposite sailed through the air towards the bustling Chicago skyline.

"Hey, now! That's uncalled for," Lydia whined, deeply hurt.

"Whassa matter, you blonde bimbo? Can't take a little friendly competition?" Demonica asked, socking her fist into Lydia's forearm.

"Ow! Careful!" Demonica raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "I bruise easily," she finished lamely.

"No offense, sugar, but you haven't got a chance."

"Oh, yeah? Well, you just wait and see, you -- you -- you no-good potty-mouthed loose-moralled... um... bad... person!"

Demonica burst into uproarious laughter. "Is that what passes for an insult up there? Sweet holy fuck, you're SOL, you silly bitch!"

Lydia flushed brightly at hearing the most unladylike curses. "SOL?" she asked.

"Shit out of luck," supplied Demonica. A sudden jolt jarred their transport. "Well, it's showtime!"

***

The transport pulled up towards the tall apartment building. Peering through the window, the two women saw a man shuffle sleepily towards the bed. Shutting off the light, he pulled the covers up to his chin and soon began to snore.

Lydia looked to Demonica. "Is that him?" she whispered.

"Yep. Let's go." Without a further word, Demonica slipped through the wall and into the bedroom.

Lydia looked nervously about, took a deep breath to steel her nerves, then followed Demonica into the apartment.

The angel couldn't help but notice the way Demonica's hips swung as she walked. Her firm... what did they call it on earth? Ass? Yes, that was it... her ass twitched in the most interesting way. Something stirred deep within Lydia. Something she had never felt before. Demonica turned, and raised her eyebrows when she noticed what Lydia was staring at.

"Hey! Keep your mind on business, sweetheart."

Lydia started, then flushed with shame. She would have to spend a bit of extra time in the confessional this week after those strange yet oddly exciting thoughts. When Demonica was sure Lydia was ready to get a move on, she leaned down close to Pete's head. Placing her lips firmly on his, she planted the most passionate kiss of his life on his unconscious mouth. Lydia stared intently at Demonica's actions, her eyes widening in shock as she distinctly saw her tongue enter Pete's mouth. Pete suddenly took a deep breath, and Demonica's body was sucked into his as if she were nothing more than a wisp of smoke. Lydia shook her head and cautiously approached the sleeping man. Swallowing nervously, she leaned down, her tongue tracing her full lips. Her mouth opened and she leaned closer. Scarcely an inch away from making contact, she started. What was she thinking? She closed her lips tightly and placed a much more modest peck on his lips. His inhalation seemed somehow disappointed. Strangely, she did too.

***

Lydia awoke to Demonica shaking her shoulder roughly. "Hey, dollface! It's go time!" Lydia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and shakily rose to her feet. She looked around the room.

"Everything looks the same!" she exclaimed.

"Well, yeah. We're inside Pete's crazy little head. This is a dream sequence. Now's our chance to have some fun." She walked to the bed where Pete still slept. "Wakey, wakey, big boy." Pete began to stir, opening his eyes. When he saw the seductive demoness standing over him, he started into awareness.

"Wh... what's going on?" he stammered.

"Shh..." Demonica shushed, slipping a hand into his pajama top to rub his chest. "I'm Demonica, and that's Lydia." She jerked her head towards the angel, who was standing a respectful distance away. "Tonight, you get to take your pick of one of us..." she leaned forwards, allowing Pete a wonderful view of her generous cleavage. "I hope it'll be me," she whispered huskily.

Pete was very obviously swayed by Demonica's words, but just as he was reaching towards the sexy female figure, Lydia piped up. Stepping closer, she interrupted. "Now, Pete, this is a bit more important than Demonica makes it seem. Your very soul is at stake." Pete seemed shaken by this information. "You must listen to each of our cases and choose very carefully." Pete nodded, enraptured by the simple beauty of the angelic enchantress.

Demonica rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll go first. Pete Smith, this is your life!" She gestured grandly, and a small picture formed at her side. Pete's life was replayed from his birth to his present state, every sordid detail expounded upon. Demonica tisked especially over the revelation of his giantess fantasy. By the end, Pete was redfaced with shame. "Well, well, well. It seems the little man is destined for damnatinon." Her face brightened as Pete's fell. "But don't worry. We can still have fun getting there!" She leapt onto the bed, slipping her arm around his shoulders. Pete definitely seemed convinced by her arguments.

Lydia nodded as she stepped towards the two, that uncomfortable feeling rising in her again. "But Pete," her bell-like voice drawing his attention away from Demonica, who was feathering kisses up his arm, "all hope is not lost. Repent of your sins, give up your lustful ways, and you -- hey!" she exclaimed, seeing Pete's attention riveted elsewhere. Demonica was rising from the bed. She stood beside it, but continued to rise! She was nearly seven feet tall by the time Lydia realized what was going on.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"It's called 'playing dirty,' sweetheart. You goody-two shoes heaven-dwellers oughta try it sometime." She was now eight feet tall, towering over Pete's bed. "Li'l Petey likes his women tall, don't he?" she cooed. It was plain by the bulge beneath the bedclothes that she was right. Lydia's protestations went unnoticed by both demoness and mortal, who were now embracing passionately.

'Playing dirty?' Lydia mused. 'Well, two can play at that game!' Closing her eyes and concentrating, she began to grow, inching her way upwards, being careful to keep her delicate wings from bumping against anything. Pete's attention was quickly drawn to her swelling frame. Satisfied that she had the floor, she began again. "Repent of your sins and --"

Demonica huffed and swelled up another foot. Pete's head swivelled, seemingly of its own accord, to watch as she stretched her arms upwards and arched her back, thrusting her mighty chest out.

Lydia's eyes narrowed as she saw her advantage going out the window. She pushed herself upwards again, stopping a few inches higher than Demonica's eight feet. Demonica glared at her and grew to nine. Lydia's returning glance could have withered most plant life. She rose to ten feet. As Demonica's frame increased again, Pete cleared his throat.

"Ahem, ladies?" Both towering titanesses jolted and looked down at him. "Much as I enjoy this, I'm a bit nervous about my ceilings. Might I offer a solution?"

The girls exchanged a glance, then shrugged, the movement of their still-covered breasts momentarily derailing Pete's train of thought. When he regained the power of speech, he outlined his plan.

***

The trio stood in the darkened Daley Plaza, Demonica and Lydia still a good ten feet tall.

"So, let me get this straight," began the smooth talking Demonica. "You're proposing a... what now?"

"A grow-off," Pete replied with a grin. "The two of you will have a little competition, and the one who makes the best GTS will win my soul. Fair?"

"What exactly makes a good GTS?" wondered Lydia.

"Y'know. Size, mischief and mayhem, some good sex..." Pete leered at Lydia's ample chest. Lydia squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, trying to suppress the strange excitement she felt.

"Is there a size limit?" Demonica asked.

"Nope. Go for the gusto, ladies," answered Pete. "Starting... now!"

Demonica shot a wry grin at Lydia, and ballooned up to twenty feet. Peering down at Lydia, she snickered: "Coming, squirt?"

Lydia glanced at Pete. "Any chance you'd reconsider?" she queried. One look at his expression answered her question. Heaving a sigh, she followed Demonica's lead. Two twenty foot giantesses now stood before Pete, awaiting the next command. They were not disappointed.

"Well? What're you waiting for? Go nuts! I'll watch from here."

Demonica turned on her spiked heel and strolled down the streets, tracing her blazing red fingernails along the walls of the buildings. She stopped to admire her reflection in the mirrored windows.

Pete frowned and looked up at Lydia. "A bit vain, isn't she?"

She smiled winningly down at him. "They all are. Soooo...." she flushed a bit, then put her hands behind her head, running her fingers through her luxurious hair. She arched her back as she remembered Lydia doing. "How do I look?"

Pete was obviously impressed. "Stunning!" He swept his gaze downwards to her slippered feet. "You make a wonderful GTS!"

She smiled again. "So does that mean I win?"

A sudden crunching sound drew their attention. Demonica stood in the street defiantly, hands on her hips, open toed sandal placed on a flattened taxi. She towered over Lydia at nearly sixty feet. "Far from it!" she sneered in the bitchiest voice she could muster. "There's more to being a giantess than good looks."

Pete looked back to Lydia. "She's right, y'know."

Lydia stared blankly down at the little person by her feet. His head barely reached her knees. What would it be like to look down on an even smaller man? As she pondered this, that gut wrenching feeling welled up inside her again, sending an intense wave of pleasure through her. She swallowed drily and turned towards the street, growing as she did so. Lifting her delicate foot, she placed it on the roof of a parked car. Biting her lip as if unsure of what to do next, she began to press downwards. The car put up quite a bit of resistance, but it was a losing battle. Under the intense pressure, the roof buckled and the windshield shattered. The tires blew out next with dull blasts. Metal screeched and squealed as it was compacted. Finally, Lydia's foot was resting on concrete, the car now flatter than a pancake in her footprint. She let her breath out in a powerful sigh, and realized she had been holding it in during the entire episode. She also realized something else. Her crotch was damp.

Pete and Demonica watched intently. "Tough act to follow," Pete snickered at the towering demoness.

"I think I can upstage her," sneered the black-haired beauty. "Crushing cars is nice, but we all know what you want to see." She ran her hands up from her waist, following the curves of her taut body, lingering especially on her breasts. As she caressed herself, she rose in height to a towering hundred feet tall. A rending sound tore through the air, and the bodice of her dress was split in two, revealing her enormous chest to the cool night air. Her nipples rose in response to an errant breeze, sending shivers through her. She cupped her hands beneath her breasts and bounced them seductively. "You like?" she deadpanned.

Pete was speechless. Another tearing sound made him turn. Behind him stood a hundred foot Lydia, toga ripped at the chest, cupping her breasts similarly. She cooed and purred as she explored her body.

Demonica couldn't hold back her amusement. She hooted with laughter and exclaimed: "Damn girl! You'd think this was the first time you'd ever touched yourself!"

"It is!" Lydia gasped, pinching her nipples between finger and thumb. The dampness at her crotch increased. "What... what's that?" She choked out as she felt moisture dripping down her thighs. She pulled her toga off entirely, involuntarily growing as she did so. As she probed delicately at her swelling pink pussy lips, she moaned and grew further. She stopped suddenly when she felt the cool glass of the buildings around her pressing against her bare hips. Pete, well accustomed to performing GTS conversions, placed her height at roughly four hundred feet.

As Lydia explored her body, Demonica, furious at being upstaged by a sissy angel, forced herself upwards. She stripped as she grew, doing her best to pull Pete away from the virgin angel, who was pressing her nipples against an office building, luxuriating in the feel of cold glass against her steamy flesh. Lydia turned, presenting her soft ass to Pete, running her hands along its warmth.

A resounding crash shocked both Pete and Lydia into turning around. Demonica stood twice the height of Lydia, her fist planted deep inside a building that rose only to her bustline. She had punched directly through the roof. "What's it gonna be, Pete? Gentle or violent?" She shoved the building sideways, away from her. It toppled over, destroying its neighbor and littering the streets with debris. Pete stumbled as the shockwaves of the collapsing towers shook the ground. Demonica began a sexy dance, running her hands all along her body, paying special attention to her nipples and crotch. Stomping her feet, she buckled the roadway beneath her. Lashing out with her hands, she tore sections of masonry off buildings and crumbled them in her hands. Pete's heart leapt into his throat when she turned and bowed, sticking her ass out into the building behind her and crushing her breasts downwards into the roof of the one ahead. Her wanton destruction was getting him excited.

A thundering boom made him turn towards Lydia, who had been busy growing while man and demoness were otherwise occupied. She stood nearly two miles high and was still occupied with prodding her body in its most tantalizing of places. Her feet spanned the length of the streets beneath her, and her finger probed deeply into her pussy. She moaned, but pouted in disappointment.

"This would feel better with something bigger," she mused, her voice rolling like thunder. Looking around her, she smiled as she spied a tall, narrow building. "Perfect!" she giggled, plucking it from its foundation. Turning it towards herself, she spread her labia with her fingers and rammed the tower into herself. Her piercing shriek rang out for miles. "Oh GOD! Demonica, why didn't you tell me this could feel... so... good!" She punctuated her words with thrusts of her makeshift phallus.

Without hesitation, Demonica rose to match Lydia's height. She reached out and took the angel's breasts in her hands, fondling and stroking the massive, firm titflesh. "Oh, baby!" she squealed. "You like that?"

Lydia gasped and increased the tempo of her thrusts. "God, god, god, GOOOOOD!!!!" she bellowed as she came. She leveled her glazed eyes at her demoness lover. "Demonica, I want you!" she shrieked. She fell to her knees and put her lips on Demonica's fiery crotch. Probing her tongue into the cleft between her legs, Lydia began to lick.

Demonica moaned with excruciating pleasure, then began to grow. Lydia's tongue lapping became weaker and weaker, so she reached down and picked up the little angel who was now half her size. She seemed to shrink as Demonica continued growing, stopping only when her companion was a miniscule six inches tall. Standing in her palm, Lydia continued pleasuring herself. Demonica stood, dwarfing the landscape around her. The city of Chicago sprawled about her ankles, buildings crumbled with her every movement. She had to be nearly twenty miles tall. She fell to her knees, sending earthquakes throughout the midwest, and leaned back, putting the wildly gyrating Lydia in her palm between her legs. The angel fairly leapt into her lover's pussy, her feathery wings tickling the sensitive flesh. Sticky juices poured all around her, the warm muscles contracting about her body. She thrashed about, licking and stroking Demonica's inner walls. Demonica wailed in pleasure, climaxing mightily. She sat down and threw her legs in front of her, mashing her tits together in her palms. Chicago crunched beneath her ass and she wriggled about, prolonging her orgasm by teasing her flesh with hundreds of tiny buildings.

With gasps and pants, she reached her sweaty fingers into her sopping cunt and fished out tiny Lydia, who smiled weakly up at her. Demonica raised her to her mouth and licked her juices off her little lover, careful not to damage her soft wings. She cradled her between her breasts and was drifting into a satisfied slumber when...

"Ohmigosh!" Lydia squeaked. "Pete!"

Demonica swore and began to shrink. Lydia dwindled as well, and the two stood in the ruins of Chicago. Rubble was all that was left, trampled deep into enormous footprints. Pete was nowhere to be found. The two girls looked at each other guiltily.

"We killed him, didn't we?" Lydia said brokenly, trying not to sob.

"I can't imagine how. This was all a dream! He should be fine."

"If it's Pete's dream, then where's Pete?"

A groaning reached their ears. Immediately the two sprinted to find its source. Buried under a pile of brick and steel was Pete Smith, a bit bruised but none worse for wear.

"You girls sure got the GTS thing down pat," he sighed, on the verge of passing out.

Lydia grinned at Demonica, then shook Pete's shoulder. "Pete? Pete? It's time to choose!"

"Huh? Oh, right," he mumbled. "Well, I've gotta say you both were amazing, but the clear winner of this one was..."

***

I stared at Lydia, waiting for her conclusion. Seconds dragged into minutes. Finally, I could take no more suspense.

"WHO?" I shouted. "Who won?"

Demonica heaved a sigh. "We don't know."

Lydia lowered her gaze. "Pete woke up before he could choose one of us."

I stared, slack-jawed in astonishment, then began to laugh. "You mean you went to all that trouble and you didn't even solve anything?" I laughed harder. "There must've been hell to pay for that!"

Lydia looked deeply into my eyes. Her sad expression dried up my mirth faster than I would have thought possible. "There was," she said quietly, lifting her feathery bangs from her forehead. There, right above her eyebrows, were two tiny bumps.

"Horns?" I whispered in astonishment.

She nodded dejectedly. "Heaven kicked me out. I am officially," her voice faltered, "a fallen angel."

"Oh, Lydia," I breathed. "I'm so sorry..."

She raised her hand. "No, Mike. It's allright." She turned to Demonica and took her hand. "I'd do it again in a second." The two of them shared a long kiss, which I am not ashamed to say was the hottest thing I have ever seen.

When they broke apart, Demonica turned towards me. "So, sugar," she began. "Where's the karaoke machine?"

Groan.