The Devil Will See You Now

Dan wasn't sure what to expect when the door opened to the Devil's office, but this wasn't it.

First, it wasn't the Devil sitting there, it was an attendant of some kind. And second, the room very much looked like the waiting room for a chiropractor or something.

"Uh, I am here for my appointment, with, um, you know, the Devil," Dan sputtered out. "I've been waiting, on and off for months, but most recently a few hours now."

The attendant -- secretary? Was that a word that was still used? The administrative assistant looked up from his phone, where he had been swiping right with some frequency.

"Yeah," and then he checked something on his computer terminal, "She knows. It'll be a minute. Take a seat."

Dan, mildly surprised that the Devil was a "she" slumped into what looked like a cheap Ikea chair along the blank white walls. Across from him was a door and he guessed that was where it would all go down.

The doctor's office vibe had the effect of quelling some of his misgivings. There was no smell of brimstone, torture racks or demons with bullwhips. The secretary was back to playing with Tinder and Dan was growing bored. He really had been waiting for several hours after getting a text from the Devil.

He supposed that it made sense that the Devil would take advantage of texting - it was convenient to get the notice on his phone - but it was a bit of a letdown. After deciding to make a deal with the Devil, Dan was looking forward to a supernatural encounter.

The secretary looked up from his phone. "You can go in. She's ready for you."

Dan got up and walked through the door, prepared for anything.

There was the Devil. She sat behind a wooden table staring at a MacBook. It was a newer model, not the newest, Dan noted. The table was nice, though. It looked like mahogany.

"Hello Dan," she said, not looking up from the computer at first. And then she stood and held out her hand. "Don't worry, this is just a greeting. All contracts are written - in blood of course - if we can come to terms."

The Devil, apparently, was a woman in her mid-40s who probably went to Orangetheory. She was classically pretty, with black hair, large brown eyes, a straight, small nose and arched eyebrows. She didn't even have small horns. No tail, either.

"Not what you expected?" she said with a smile. "I find that this look suits me. And it works well with your sort."

"My sort?" Dan said, a bit peevishly.

"Mid-50s, white guy, thinks he's a good guy, obviously isn't," she said, smiling again.

"I don't have to look like this," she said. "We have an algorithm that picks the look. It's just too much energy to try to figure out what works, so I just follow the tool's recommendation."

Dan was a little offended. He hadn't made the deal yet. He frowned and tried to look serious. An algorithm?

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," he said.

"Neither have I Dan," she said, her eyes narrowed very slightly. "I have your petition here and see you are looking to do a standard lien on the soul in exchange for, essentially, charisma, right?"

"Well, not just any kind of charisma," he said. "I want people to like me, right away. I want every conversation to go my way."

Dan had thought about it a lot. So many things would be better if he had this kind of mysterious appeal. He would get any job, run for office and win, have any woman. It would solve every problem he had.

"I want it to be subtle though - like I would actually like to say the right things and be -- you know -- beguiling, not just switch people's brains off and make them like me," he said.

The Devil nodded. "It's not the worst request," she said. "It's flexible in the outcomes and you can stipulate that in the contract if we can come to terms."

Dan crinkled his eyebrows. "Terms - I mean - I thought it was pretty straightforward. My soul for the charm," he said.

The Devil shook her head. "Look Dan, you're a businessman," she said. "You took economics, I assume."

He nodded.

"I have plenty of supply of souls and frankly, yours is not really in doubt," she said. "You're going to be joining my permanent workforce eventually. You're 52. You could turn it around, I guess, but unlikely at this point. I don't make it all that easy, obviously, to get an audience with me, so by the time you get one, I already know you are a bad person, pretty much."

"So, you won't grant me this, even if I offer my soul?" he said, a small hint of desperation sounding in his voice.

"Well, I do like guarantees," the Devil said. "It smooths out the books and helps me plan. But I am a businesswoman myself. I like scale. So what I am really interested in is getting a return on my investments so I can get many more Dans in here."

"OK, so beyond my soul -- you need -- like consulting or something? It's been awhile since I left that line, but I could help .." he said before she cut him off.

"No way Dan - I do not need your effing consulting advice. I have a legion of former Goldman Sachs employees at the snap of a finger. I need people, on Earth, to help me scale some of my new ventures," she said.

"Look, I believe in the power of digitalization," she said, waving at the computer. "I can reach so many more people now and without all the annoying meetings -- like this one. And I have been working on some really good stuff."

"So what would I be doing, exactly?" Dan said.

"This skill you are looking for is very useful in business development," she said. "I need you to simply spread the gospel about an excellent technology, one that stands on its own, and help it grow. To be honest, it probably doesn't need my help, but I don't take chances."

"So, I use my new skill to promote this technology and I pledge my soul and everything else I want to do, I can just do?" he asked, a bloom of hope arising in his mind. He already was envisioning his first trip to the Lululemon store near his house to try out his guile on the manager. She had patently ignored his flirting last week when he went in.

"Well, of course, I need you to commit to the success," she said. "I need this to work and therefore I need you to work, which means that I need a bit more commitment from you than you normally put into things."

"What do you mean by that?" Dan asked, growing irritated again.

"Well, look at you Dan," she said, flinging her arm up. "You're not ugly as it is. You make a living. You even were something of an athlete at one point, or at least you weren't unathletic. You don't need me to be successful. You're weak and pathetic. You have no discipline. You have a drinking problem and you eat too much cheese."

"I eat too much cheese?!" Dan said, getting angry.

"Look, like I said, I don't need your soul Dan. I have plenty and yours is coming anyway," she said. "I am doing you a favor and I see a bit of potential in you. You get to ride out your life getting what you want - mostly - but I need commitment. So in addition to your soul, you also have to agree to a small incentive."

The Devil stood and for a moment Dan saw a black shadow imposed over the pretty woman standing there.

"If you don't perform, then not only will you lose the guile, I will take away some of the guile you already have," she said. "You will find that Megan, the assistant manager at Lululemon, won't even give you a sympathy smile at your jokes after that."

Dan froze at the last remark. He turned and looked at the door and thought about leaving. He looked down at his shoes, over his slightly protruding belly and then back at the Devil.

"You are free to go, Dan," the Devil said.

"OK, I will do it," Dan said, getting a slight spurt of motivation. "What is this technology you want me to proselytize?"

The Devil smiled and pulled out a sheet of paper, a small knife and a quill.

"Have you ever heard of something called ChatGPT?"