* Author : Nathaniel Lee * Narrator : Dave Thompson * Host : Summer Fletcher * Audio Producers : Peter Adrian Behravesh and Peter Wood * Discuss on Forums Originally published in Unidentified Funny Objects 3 Rated R This episode is a part of our Tales from the Vaults series, in which a member of PodCastle’s staff chooses a backlist episode to highlight and discuss. This, our final episode of the year, was chosen by our departing assistant editor and host, Summer Fletcher. “Why I Bought Satan Two Cokes on the Day I Graduated High School” originally aired as PodCastle 336. Why I Bought Satan Two Cokes on the Day I Graduated High School by Nathaniel Lee When I came out of the coffee shop with my latte and my fresh walnut brownie, the Archangel Michael was beating the ever-loving shit out of Satan down on the corner.  I could see the impact crater, right in the middle of the intersection, and one of the poles holding up the traffic lights was cut right in two so the wires had all fallen in the street and also it was on fire on account of the flaming sword, so it was a real mess.  All higgledy-piggledy.  Michael was holding Satan up by the neck with one hand and just slapping him across the face with the other.  Which also by the way was still holding the sword, so it wasn’t so much like slapping as it was punching with brass knuckles. Also it was still on fire. People were honking, but only the ones far enough back that they couldn’t see what was going on.  Everyone else was kind of looking the other way.  Fiddling with their cell phones.  Avoiding eye contact. You know, like you do around angels. I figured it was time. “Hey,” I said.  Michael turned.  I lifted the hand with the coffee in it and pointed at Satan, who was pretty beat up by then.  Missing some teeth and all bruises and stuff.  “Not cool,” I told Michael. The angel looked down at me with his bronze wings all clanging in the wind.  Then he snorted and tossed Satan to the ground and just took off.  I stumbled a little and nearly spilled my coffee.  Angels got wicked backwash. By then Satan was staggering upright.  “You okay, dude?” I asked him. “Could’ve taken him,” Satan said.  He spat out a tooth and flared his nostrils.  “Didn’t need your help.”