The demon was all black armor and claws and horns. And teeth: it was grinning at him. “You are pitifully slow.”
“It’s hot,” he protested, “and I’m out of shape.”
The guard shrugged. “This is Hell. It won’t get cooler, and you won’t get thinner.”
“Then I guess I won’t get any faster, either.”
“That’s a good bet,” the demon agreed.
Another demon approached, and yelled at the guard, “What are you doing? Don’t talk to them, just stab them if they’re not fast enough. Hell, stab them if they are fast enough.”
“Sorry; I’m new here,” said the demon.