devil coffee

“Coffee.” I heard a thin voice from poor Devil’s bedstead. I was so happy to hear his voice that I immediately ran to the kitchen to prepare him one, thinking it would be nice to choose the monkey cup.

“Not that idiot” he said, when he saw me coming. I wasn’t quite sure who he referred to, me or the monkey, and pulled away, but Devil grabbed my sleeve. “Ah well, I don’t have to look at his pancake face when I drink from the cup.” You better go back to sleep, I thought.

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