if you ask any demon worth their sulfur, they will usually decry the angelic. But the thing is, sulfur is worthless.^* Particularly in hell, where the yellow fjords cut deep and foul-smelling crystals spring up between the petunias. And thus, Lester Chaucer wiped his unholy arse with their opinions. He even went so far as to marry one.

^{*(Unless you're a mad occultist and alchemist, that is.)}

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