Devil's Food Cake? Or Food Devil cAke?

F. The deal with the Devil was still on the table for you, literally. you could hardly imagine what it was like to make a deal with the Devil, you know since you had never really seen her before. Yet, as you looked closer at the parchment, you noticed that it wasn't a deal at all. What you had thought was a deal with the Devil was actually a recipe for The Devil's Devil Food Cake. 

"What do you need me for?" You asked the Devil. Fair assessment, because you had never been very good at cooking. Every time you had made toast, you had found that you would just rip the bread when you spread the butter over it.

"I need you to harvest the souls to complete my Devil's food cake recipe, so that I can enter a baking contest," The Devil said to you with a smile. She seemed genuinely interested in being in a baking contest, but you didn't really understand why.

"Who’s holding this contest?" You asked the Devil.

"No one other than Death himself. I want to get on Death's good side."

“Why?” You asked the Devil.

“Because Death has Michael’s angel food cake recipe, and I want it, so that I can sabotage it, and prove that my cake is better.”

You look closely at the recipe, and you see that one of the ingredients is the soul of man who died in a lumberjack’s uniform. “Why can’t you do it?”

“I cannot physically take souls without them being offered to me, but I can give you the power to do it.” The Devil handed you a glove. “Once you find a lumberjack, take his soul and I will use it in my cake. Deal?”

It did sound better than your stupid retail job, but things like being tied to a log heading towards a saw. Because at least saws didn’t have reasons to be a jerk to you. A saw was just a saw. It never a saw a reason not to be a saw. Regardless, you looked right at the Devil and said, “I’ll take your bet, but you’re gonna regret, because I’m the best that’s ever been.”

“Couldn’t stop yourself, huh?”

“When was I going to get to see the Devil again.”

Later, you found yourself, just kind of chilling in the woods, hanging out in a tree, waiting for a lumberjack to just sort of stumble through the woods. What you hadn’t thought was that being a lumberjack wasn’t really a popular profession anymore. As a matter of fact, it was possible that no one was a lumberjack anymore. It could easily have been an imaginary job like a telegraph delivery person. Or lumberjack/telegraphy delivery person. As you sat there at the top most branch of the tree, you contemplated briefly whether or not there was a lumberjack named Jack, who had started the whole lumberjack thing by cutting lumber and being named Jack.

Then before you knew it, you thought you heard someone stumbling through the trees. The sound of Twigs breaking was the easiest sound in the world to identify. It was like music to your ears. You wondered if this particular lumberjack had the sound of an ax playing in his sound track, or the sounds of an ax being sharpened, or twigs snapping in his album. Maybe his album was called Got Wood?

Then you saw it, the plaid red and black shirt, the long brown beard, and the bright red end of an ax. All you needed was to take that man’s soul, so that you could make really delicious cake to steal a cake recipe from the archangel Michael. This was definitely better than work. You jumped down from the tree and landed with a thud on the forest floor.

“Here to steal my soul?” The lumberjack blatantly said.

“How did you know?” You asked.

“The Devil has been hunting lumberjacks to extinction, so that she can make her famous cake. I’m the last lumberjack in existence. When I die, there won’t be any more lumberjacks ever again. Be careful, because this ax is really sharp.” The lumberjack swung his ax and it split a tree near your head. You were starting to wonder if the Devil just didn’t want to take the lumberjack on just because he was dangerous.

The lumberjack swung his ax again, but you caught the handle with your non gloved hand. You had learned the move while catching candles that had fallen from your register. Then with your other hand you grabbed the lumberjack’s soul through his stomach. It was a slippery green thing, but it was easy to pull out like a loose thread in a sweater.

“That’s too bad,” you said. You didn’t really care. Would killing the last lumberjack in the world haunt you at night? No. It was like eating the last spicy mustard pretzel. Yeah, it was kind of a bummer, but it didn’t really affect anyone. You snapped your fingers and the Devil appeared. She looked at happy once she saw the soul squirming in your hands.

“Give me the soul!” The Devil yelled, but she had a twinge in her voice like she wasn’t going to use the soul for a cake. You could hear the sound of triumphant trumpets playing from the Devil’s head. She was tricking you.

“Why?”

“That was our deal, wasn’t it?”

“What’s the soul add to your cake?” You asked.

“It preserves the freshness!” The Devil yelled.

“Why couldn’t you just use sodium benzoate?”

“Give me the soul or I will kill you.”

“They were hunting you, weren’t they?” You just realized your terrible mistake. You moved closer to the lumberjack, but the Devil lifted up the shimmering red tipped ax.

“Choose carefully!” You moved closer, and the Devil swung the ax. You slid under the ax, and you placed the soul back inside the lumberjack. You were able to save him, but the Devil was already swinging the ax at you.