Conducting business with the opposite side is her least favorite part of the job – it’s not the jealousy speaking, the heavily suppressed desire to return to the LORD’s warm embrace; it’s because angels, as a species, are absolutely intolerable and very, terribly annoying. Yet, Hell has been facing the problem of overpopulation for centuries now. Beelzebub can only assume that it’s the opposite for Heaven – so many sinners, so little virtue and righteousness left on earth, and the old rules still apply.
She is here to propose a deal. Arranging a meeting upstairs on earth was, perhaps, a reckless decision. The territory might be neutral, but she still hasn’t figured out what humans wear in this... decade? Year? Not the point. Never the point.
"I have been receiving a lot of complaints,” she drawls, tilting her head slightly to watch a duck choke on a big chunk of bread. “Unbaptizzzed children, they are all ours. Wailing all the time. The souls in Limbo suffer more than they are supposzed to. Making the demons angrier than usual, they can barely focus on their job. Major failing on HER part, sending them to Hell.” And then there was this guy, Dante, and his stupid book. That’s why Hell offers no tours, even for diplomatic purposes – demons don’t understand diplomacy.
And Beelzebub would rather guard the gates herself than allow someone like Gabriel into her domain. Or anywhere near her for more than a couple of strictly business hours.
“I can transfer their souls to you, paperwork provided. They are innocent, after all, and that would... well, give you a good increazze in numbers. They,” she nods at humans walking around the park, “and their growing atheistic tendencies paired with their sinful nature will soon leave no place to squeezzze in new souls.”
