For the first time in recent memory, Satan appeared in public without his devilish goatee. His Evilness—clean shaven and wearing cutoff jeans, a hoodie, and Blackspot Adbusters—was recognized by Helen Gunderssonn, lifestyle editor for the Minneapolis Star Tribune, as he lurked in a drug-free school zone earlier this week, hawking pot and anatomy magazines. The Prince of Darkness has not granted an interview in decades—and he is known to be prickly with reporters—but "something about the way he was stroking his chin" led Gunderssonn to believe he wanted to be recognized, so she asked him why he had shaved his goatee.
"Why? I'll tell you why," growled Satan. "Because I don't want to be associated with all those clueless wankers running around in their pathetic chin whiskers. They’re cheapening the dramatic impact. In my day, goatees used to mean something. Now they’re a dime a dozen. Yo, babe, you wanna buy some killer weed?”
Undeterred by Gunderssonn’s refusal, the Devil continued. “Used to be, if you wanted to trash somebody's picture, you drew a goatee on it. These days, every loser and his cousin Jared who thinks it'll make him look cool and help him score with chicks is growing a goatee. You got bank managers, accountants, computer geeks, athletes, schoolteachers, and celebrities with goatees. Half those latte-sucking nerds at Google have goatees. They look like [Brillo pads] with teeth. It’ll be a cold day in Hell, before I wear that thing again. Say, darlin’, you in the market for some personal grooming devices?"
Once again Gunderssonn declined. Encouraged by Satan's apparent willingness to talk, however, she tried to steer the conversation to the immigration crisis, the president’s chance of being impeached, and the stifling influence of colleges on freedom of expression, but to no avail. She couldn’t even get a response when she asked the devil whom he liked better, Donald Trump or Kim Jong-un. Old Lucifer acted as if he hadn't heard the question. He clearly had one thing on his mind.
"This too shall pass," he snarled, rubbing his naked chin. "Remember when mullets were all the rage? Even Seinfeld had one for a while. Now you hardly see them outside the World Wrestling Federation and a few truck stops below the Mason-Dixon line. The goatee will go the same route. You mark my words, missy."
When Gunderssonn attempted another question, the devil cut her short, "Say," he asked, "you don't think I look too much like some hipster millennial, do you?"
Then, humming "Sympathy for the Devil," he walked jauntily toward a group of sixth-grade boys. “Yo, homies, what up?” he began.