U.S. ROUTE 49, Miss. — Local punk and guitar virtuoso Drennen Boydell decided to sell his soul to the Devil in exchange for getting worse at his instrument, sources confirmed as a tumbleweed ambled by, as if on cue.
“I know it’s not something you hear too many people complaining about, but everyone’s always giving me shit for being too good at guitar. Punks in my scene telling me I oughta start a symphonic metal band left and right. A guy can only get roasted so much before he’s gotta look at himself long and hard in the mirror, take stock in what’s really important, and make a pact with Satan, y’know?” said Boydell. “So, I took a page out of Robert Johnson’s book, and headed down to the crossroads to get rid of this pesky soul in exchange for superhuman sloppiness. The only thing I used the soul for was crying at the end of movies anyway, so I figure I’ll save a lot on tissues too, as a bonus.”
The Devil was less than enthused about participating in yet another tired rehash of soul collecting.
“Man, I don’t know how the rumor got started that I was mainly interested in taking ‘souls’ as my main barter, but I’ll rue that day for all eternity. What I could really use is a couple hundred bucks every now and then, I’ll tell you that! Rent down in the fiery depths of Hell ain’t cheap, buddy. I should know, I made it that way!” said the Devil, with a pleasant laugh that betrayed his reputation. “The soul-to-cash exchange rate down here is just getting more and more meager. Things are tough all over, sure, but they’re especially tough in the land of eternal damnation, in my humble opinion.”
Angrier still is the man who owns the house facing the crossroads, the local crank known as Old Man Mahoney.
“You’d think owning crossroads-adjacent property would be a total dream, but take into consideration how often Beelzebub himself shows up in your front yard. That’ll take your resale value down a pretty penny, I tell ya what. The realtor who sold it to me made sure to mention all the natural sunlight and proximity to nightlife, but somehow forgot to say ‘Lucifer may appear frequently while you’re out mowing your lawn,’” said Mahoney, on one of his many rocking chairs. “Plus, to make matters even worse, I’m miles from the nearest hospital or airport. But the devil thing, that’s like, definitely toward the top of my gripes here.”
At press time, Boydell reportedly ended up so bad at the guitar that he’s since switched to being the scene’s best bass player.