The Devil Went Down to US Cellular

Last night I swear the Devil stopped by US Cellular Field, and here is the story. The evil White Sox fans were hating on the Tigers as usual and Lucifer wanted to hear his minions scream out expletives like true word artists. Hearing that there was a double header he ended up spending the day. The first game goes as planned for "Hater Nation" and everyone there is appeased so not much to mention here. But game two was an entirely different story.

Things were going well for the Tigers and Virgil Vasquez, who was on his second start of the season, and only gave up two runs and four hits in five plus innings. So the score is seven to two and only three and a half innings left. The Tigers are looking good and are far too solid of a team to give up the lead to the lowly White Sox. Right?

As the game goes on there is a grumbling of fan despair, wishing of a win, and of course more expletives. Well all of a sudden a couple in Sec.558 Row 2 Seats 13 and 14 say to one another "I would sell my soul to the Devil for a Sox win!" Meanwhile on the concourse Satan is wolfin' down dogs, brats, nachos, and several beers, when he hears this. 'Ka-poof' a black and gray cloud of smoke goes up on the concourse and the only thing left is a black and red business card spinning on its end, and it says "Call In Time Of Need" whats was the number you ask? Its 1-313-666-1313.

Up in Sec.558 the couple still shocked and pissed that the Tigers are winning, they hear this lightening strike, and a crack bang, and look at the row behind them only to see a dark figure in all black White Sox gear, including his #25 Thome jersey from way back, when Jim, shall we say sold his. Anyway, the couple being waist deep in draft beer, pays very little attention to the new stranger, but accept him with open arms due to his Sox gear. The Devil leans in and says "I couldn't help but over hear that you guys would sell your soul for a White Sox victory?" the couple respond almost in unison "Hell yes!" With this the Devil introduces himself as Lou Siffer, and the couple introduces themselves as Stan and Mary Kate Wiznowski(any similarities on characters is coincidental)so Lou says to the couple "If I can promise you a White Sox victory would you sign for me?"Stan perks-up and says "throw in a couple of jumbo beers and you got a deal!" After that exchange a puff of gray smoke poofs in Lou's hand, and suddenly appears a long tan piece of paper with an X and two blank lines at the bottom of it. Stan and Mary Kate still giggling and rolling their eyes over the whole thing, and are handed a pen by Lou. The pen has tiny little spikes all over it, well being tanked on draft ball park beer they don't feel the pen prick their fingers, and they end up signing in their own blood. Immediately after Stan and Mary sign, Stan says "Hey Jag-off wheres my friggin beer!" and then Mary Kate chimes-in with "come on shithead you promised!" Lou says "a deals a deal." So Lou turns to the isle and there are two ice cold jumbo beers. Lou hands them to the couple and says "enjoy the game, and I'll see ya later"

Lou starts his promise by giving one of his favorite business partners Jim Thome a three run homer off of Chad Durbin. Then Lou throws in a couple of errors by two normally good Tigers, and for the coup de grace he makes it so Zach Miner can't get a pitch over the plate, and its like something is tugging on him to turn towards 1st and 2nd base. The Tigers tried to fight the damnation, but it was too strong due to Satan sending a false distress signal from the LA Angels to God, and God was distracted at the moment, because God always answers the Angels call first.

White Sox nation was so rich in sales, that "Lou" got himself a sky-rise apartment in downtown Chicago.

Moral to the story: Time be comin Chitown to pay up.