Confessor

The sophisticated gentleman sidled up to me in Beelzebub's three piece suit, oblivious to my jet black hair, my jet blacker soul.

"I've three riddles for you," he whispered huskily, "answer them correctly and I'll let you take me home and have your way with me."

Nearly mesmerized by his hypnotist's eyes. "It's against my religion answering any questions unless it involves me winning a car."

I glanced at the snow falling steadily outside, thinking it would be a lot prettier if it didn't get so dirty. Then I thought I should've at least let him buy me a drink.