Send a few fliers to earth, stating that you are looking for mostly unpayed interns who will receive valuable work experience
+1 to this.
[5]
You groan in exasperating, tapping the butt of your scythe into the hellsoil. You turn around with an indignant huff, leaving behind you the skeletal Giant who at this point looks more like a block of bone matter than a Giant. What a waste of your time.
DAAADDYYY, comes the beast's deep rumble, leanin towards you and collapsing further in the process. You're not listening, already walking back into your office.
Arriving at your place of safety, you sigh the sort of sigh usually reserved for the last gasping breath of freezing mortals accepting of their own chilly demise as you seat yourself once again. Feels good to relax after a six hour flight on a bleeding demon. But relaxing won't get work done, and you're nothing if not diligent (for now, at least). You lean forward on your desk, bony arms folded in front of you. Opening up a drawer, you take out several sheets of paper, a quill, and your skull-designed bloodwell. (A bloodwell is like an inkwell that uses a more common resource in the depths of Hell.) At once, you set to work, drawing (literally) on the powers of calligraphy in order to craft the perfect flyer.
INTERNS WANTED
ELIGIBILITY CRITERIA
- Must not have strong aversion to blood, viscera, sickness, suicide, murder, sappy romantic comedies, etc.
- Must have combat experience up to 6th dan in karate or equivalent martial art/some form of ability with dagger, sword, rapier, scythe or other piercing/cutting weapon OR handgun
- Must be willing to kill a bitch
HOW TO APPLY
- Craft a demonic pentagram with your own blood (can be any size), surround points with candles and sell soul to Death (NOT Satan)
NOTES
- Yes you're going to have to murder zombies
- Yes I am Death
- If you don't believe I am Death then I dare you craft the circle anyway so I can slap your shit
You nod vigorously, clicking your fingers to duplicate the scroll several times before giving all the copies sentience. The unholy abominations screech with primal fury, flying upwards into a newly created portal to Earth you made, fully intent on advertising themselves to willing mortals. This has been the best plan you've ever made.
DEATH:
COMINGFLIERS:
FLYINGGIANT:
CRYING