The Devil changed - as he could. His foray into the city had to be accompanied by a certain amount of style. He looked through the bar door. It was a cold night, but not too cold. Music played. He tapped a tune on his thigh. A young woman tackled a Martini. "How old fashioned," he thought. "I might just have one." He ambled forward. His suit was in vogue without being flashy. He didn't conceal his tail. Round there, people wore all sorts. He was aware of a noise from behind him as Tipsy crept up. "The Devil I do declare!" She sprang and landed on his back. "Oh, desist young rabbit, I know who you are!" The Devil was suave. The Devil was charming. "Mind the threads! Join me in a Martini! Join me in an ickle dwink." Tipsy was tempted, but that was the Devil's intention. He tried to throw her off. Tipsy clung to his back like a magnet to steel. "Take me into the bar then, Mr Devil. Take me over the threshold." He strode in to face the bar. He ordered a Martini with all the trimmings. "How is our mutual friend
the Wabbit?" Tipsy clung the tighter. "He sends his best wishes." "Yuk," said the Devil, "he is so full of kindness." Tipsy let go. The Devil felt her paws release their awful grip. "He's coming for you," murmured Tipsy. "He won't stop." The Devil drained his Martini. Then ate all the stuffed olives and smacked his lips. Addressed the barman. "Delightful. My compliments." He shimmered. And vanished.
