Uncle Zagreus,

​

The deepest thanks for pulling whatever strings you did to have me reassigned to the United States. I have no qualms about how you did it, but I know a poor soul likely lost his ears, considering this is such a prime post. From the stories you have told me of Greece in its day, I imagined the US would pale by comparison; by the devil, I was wrong! Let me tell you about my experiences, Uncle.

​

Decadence is the norm, indulgence in the flesh is a daily routine, and one would very much think that humans enjoy lying more than they do telling the truth! Do you know how many people eat that dreaded fast food every day in the US, Uncle? Millions! Convincing the mortals to order more food than necessary is easier than lighting a candle in Hell. They sit in their cars and devour fake meals, languishing in their gluttony, lips aquiver in anticipation of the next bite. It is a beautiful sight. And, oh, the sloth! Remember when we had to work through the night, Uncle, taking on long shifts just to get those industrious little ants to slow down? Now, they choose not to move for hours at a time! They bundle up in front of their televisions, eyes watering as the light penetrates and erodes whatever vestiges of motivation they still possess, and sit slack jawed while they watch others live the way they wish they could. A work of art, truly. Satan has outdone himself.

​

Breaking the Christian union has become a bothersome chore rather than an engaging pursuit. More marriages are broken than ever before, and I don’t have to lift a single finger. It’s terribly dull. I recall not too long ago, perhaps a century, in which I had to labor my horns and tail off in order to drive a wedge between the two Godly halves of a whole. Now I sit and wait for petty squabbling to do this work for me. Inspiring lust has never been easier, Uncle Zag. Their wandering eyes require the barest of nudges. Infidelity, that sweet indulgence of the flesh, walks hand in hand with their unconquerable thirst for more. The greediness of these humans astounds even me, and Greed is my supervisor! They hunt for money, that laughable paper currency, for success as if it will bring peace, for beauty and power and sex. It pervades the mind and drives man ever farther from the divine. Oh, the envy, Uncle, when man achieves what others cannot. The burning jealousy that seeps into the heart and makes the penitent man turn venomous. It’s rather a thrill to watch.

​

Not to mention the boasts of those who feel superior to their fellow meat sacks. The blind falsity that they are better. Better humans with more pristine souls because of their position, their material wealth, their cut of cloth. It sends a shiver down my spine to watch the man who sits alone in his home too large for just himself, and schemes on how to ever grow richer in coin and poorer in the soul. My hands cover his blinded eyes, but he is convinced he sees even more clearly than his opponent. The deceit is never uncovered.

​

In case my attitude was not quite clear, Uncle, I am pleased with my station. Though, I do miss the satisfaction of watching the holy man succumb to my corruptions. This position feels both empty and effortless. Nonetheless, I am still grateful, Uncle. Please do not take my comments as complaint. As making quota will prove effortless, I have placed a renewed interest in my personal pursuits and have taken up pickleball to fill my idle time. I am participating in a tournament in Quincy, Illinois this coming weekend, if you should care to attend.

​

Give my best to the family, especially to Uncle Screwtape. Give a cold greeting to that worm cousin of mine, if you must. I would like to visit soon, perhaps in March when I return from South Padre Island. There is much work to be done there.

​

Your sincerely thankful and ever-in-your-service nephew,

​

Asphodel