An angel is an angel, sugar. It just doesn’t interest me.
I feel like there’s a few morals at the end of this story, like:
Lucija has all the taste of a 90 year old senile Croat;
Hell is a huge ass apartment complex;
I’m officially worse than the Devil.
You’re too sweet.
Well, you’ll have to check the place out when you get there.
Right. Not a Devil. I’m an Angel.
The fuckin’ hilarious thing is that it looks like you expect me to care how you categorize yourself—I really don’t give a damn./SHRUG
You’re so damn rude.