“I told them we needed a ‘no refunds’ clause in the standard agreement, but did they listen? Nooo, ‘it’s fun to bargain with mortals’ they said. ‘It’ll be fine’ they said. Well, I’m still in charge around here and I’m sorry to say but there’s a no refund clause in all agreements with Hell.”

“No, no there is not. The contract we signed even had a note at the bottom with the expiration date for reversing the trade. I have six months left. Now get me my soul.”

“I can’t. I really can’t. See, Hades owed Zeus for cleaning up that whole affair with the antichrist, and then he went and borrowed from Loki on Hell’s charge card to pay it back! I was not amused, let me tell you, but there’s nothing we can do now. Things had to be shuffled around. Interest to be paid. Your soul is long gone.”

“Then how are you going to repay your debt to *me*?”

“Excuse me?”

“I have it in writing. Right here in our contract. If I bring you something worth double what you granted me, you have to give my soul back. And I have the Holy Grail right here.”

“. . . you. . . ??”

“Go on.”

“You, a no-account janitor from rural Michigan, not only found the most coveted item in human history, but you actually smuggled it with you into Hell?”

“As I said, it’s right here.”

“So it is. Huh. I could’ve sworn we had Holy Artifact firewalls up. Yet another way my lackeys are failing to keep things running smoothly.”

“So, want to trade, or not?”

“See. . . here’s the problem. That thing may be technically twice as valuable as whatever stupid favor I gave you for your soul, but it’s holy. I can’t touch it, can’t use it, have no contacts who can, and the only thing I could possibly do with it is trade it to another mortal.”

“Not my problem. You said, ‘bring something twice as valuable if you want your soul back’ and I did. So pay up, or I’ll have you in court for breach of contract.”

“Fine. Set it here. You want your soul so bad, go get it yourself. The escalator is over there. Loki and Odin are on the nineteen-thousandth floor. Just head toward the sound of ceaseless arguing. This is a one-use pass, so you won’t be ejected by their firewalls, which *are* functional against intrusive mortals. This concludes our business. Go.”

. . .

“DAMIEN! Get in here. We are going to rewrite the standard soul contract, and we are going to do it right now. And bring me whoever’s in charge of running the firewalls. If I find our Artifact definitions haven’t been updated in two millennia, there will be hell to pay!”