The Devil's Own ...it's quite a title....but, well, when I saw it; it looked just like oil and water was always meant to look. He was in the dark corner of the seediest pub I had ever visited. He hadn't shaved for days, and he hadn't washed for about as long, I figured. He was drinking absinthe like his life depended on it. I didn't like him, and I don't think he liked me. He showed me four red cards, four black cards. He mixed them. Fairly, slowly, cleanly. Then he turned them over, and they'd separated. Red on top, black on the bottom. He had filthy hands; grime under his fingernails from who knows what. But the cards just...separated. He drained his absinthe and did it again. And, after I'd promised him a refill, and other sundry items, he did it again, with just four of the damn cards. I was watching him as closely as you are reading these words; I grabbed for the cards, but could see nothing....I looked up, and he was laughing in my face, like...well, like a demon.
The Devil's Own; it won't cost you your soul, but it may look that way....supplied with everything you need with the exception of Brimstone and Treacle! Exceptionally easy to perform as well.
