From Chapter 4, In which we are invited to a ball inside of a cemetery
At night, while their parents slept, the two sisters bragged to the little girl about the countless delights of being the Devil’s servants. The two of them slept on a cot at the foot of their parents’ bed; the little girl slept on the floor over some damp rags by the hearth. From above, the sisters commented on how pleasant was the smell of sulfur that emanated from the demons, on how much fun it was to dance naked around the bonfire, how tasty were the bat-wings soup and the cake of lizards, how much wine and liquor they had drunk, and how much candy they ate during the Sabbath. All of this in a quiet voice, for they feared awakening their parents. They celebrated especially the qualities of the Devil: how brave, strong and beautiful he was; how powerful he looked as he munched unchristened babies in his jaws; how tall and dark he was, how thin was his waist, and how firm, round and hairy were his buttocks.
“It pains so much the way we love him!”
They expounded upon how much more charming and alluring the Devil was compared to the pale and bony Jesus that hung inside the Church they attended on Sundays, that looked down at you and knew all of what you did at all times.
“Even when you fart.”
“The Little Master closes an eye to all your misdemeanors.”
“He respects your privacy.”
“He doesn’t care about your noises.”
“He likes them.”
“He likes you the way you are. You don’t have to be nice—” “—or to do nice things.”
“He likes it when you lie—”
“—and when you steal—”
“—or when you hurt people.”
“And he is so handsome!”
Victoria insisted that the Devil looked the best as a black dog; her sister, that as a buck he looked the most attractive. Both rejoiced in the memories of how low hung his balls and how thick was his penis. What a pleasure it was to celebrate his rise, drinking wine and cursing in all directions, dancing back to back with all the other witches, swearing by all high and mighty to cause grief and unhappiness to others!
