THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

INT: AN OFFICE.

The Devil, having been summoned, appears next to Scott.

There’s blood on the floor and Scott is at the desk with
his head in his hands.

DEVIL

Did I hear someone say the magic words?

“I’d sell my soul for…?” Hello, Scotty.
Ooh, what a mess you’ve made! Looks
like something I can help you with, my
friend. I have the best bargains in the
business just waiting for the right
soul to drive ‘em home. The Devil
always honors his agreements.

(Looks around and sees the blood.)

Well, the blood all over the floor

certainly makes the situation clear.
You don’t want to cut a “make me rich”
deal so much as you want a “make this
go away” plea bargain, am I right?

(The man nods.)

So what happened here to cause such a

mess, Scotty? Your lady love giving you
trouble? Your mother nag you one too
many times? Just kidding, I know it was
your business partner. So, let me help
you out. Let’s draw up some paperwork.

(A scroll appears in his hand.)

Just prick your finger, sign away your

soul right here on the dotted line, and
I’ll start…hold up. Wait a minute.

(He peers at the paperwork, then goes pale.)

(MORE)
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 (CONT.)
Whoa, okay, hold on. Let’s not be hasty
here. I mean, I want to help you out, I
really do, but your soul is kind
of…worthless. I mean, the way you
treated your clients and partner is one
thing—we can work with that. But you
also…let’s see, “vandalized a church,”
“lit a squirrel on fire,” and “never
replaced the toilet paper once.”

(Stares at Scott in total astonishment.)

Not once? Do you know how easy that is

to do? And when you don’t, how much of
an inconvenience it is for the next
person to use the bathroom?

I hate to say it, Scotty, but this is

one…terrible soul. Frankly, there’s not
much good to be had in there. To be
honest with you, I don’t really think
it’s worth my time to make all of this
“go away.” You’ll probably figure it
out on your own anyway. No worries. A
little bleach, a little scrub-scrub-
scrub, and you’ll be fine.

(Backs away apologetically.)

Tell you what. You work on this whole

soul thing for a little while, maybe
rescue a kitten from a tree and try not
to drown it. Get your credit score up a
little—have fun cleaning up this blood
by the way!—and we’ll talk again in
two, three years tops. Good luck!

(Disappears.)

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Permission is granted to perform this monologue in any capacity. However, this monologue may not
be published (print, online, ebook or any other media) without written permission.