"Who's your boyfriend?"

You and Meg are sitting in her dorm room in your underwear, eating ice-cream for breakfast and watching cartoons on her tiny TV, when the door swings open.

The woman who walks in is a classic goth. Black hair, black lipstick, skull earrings, pentacle necklace, short black skirt, purple-and-black striped stockings. She looks sort of like Mary Elizabeth Winstead, if Mary Elizabeth Winstead was a goth.

“Hey, dork. I’m back. Who’s your boyfriend?”

Meg heaves a deep sigh. “Hi, Sabrina.”

“Whatever.” You smile politely at Sabrina as she drops her bag down on her bed. Now you know why the other side of the room has all those heavy-metal posters. “Turn those dumb cartoons off, dork. They’re annoying.”

“Cartooning is an underappreciated American artform! Take that back!”

“You’re such a weirdo.” Sabrina lies back on her bed, kicking her feet up in the air. “And ask your boyfriend to put some pants on. I can totally see his dingus.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh, he’s just using you for sex? Lame.”

“He’s not using me for sex!”

“Oh, so you aren’t even getting any? Double lame.”

Meg picks up a pillow and throws it at Sabrina, who snatches it out of the air and tosses it back. She looks pretty cute, flouncing about in her pale yellow bra and boyshorts, getting more and more steamed at her annoying goth roommate. “Why can’t you just stay in New York? What happened to that horror movie they cast you in?”

“New York is lame these days. All the cool stuff happens in, like, Miami now. Anyway, I knew you’d totally get lonely without me. As soon as I leave you start inviting over random guys to show you their dinguses.”

“He’s not a random guy!”

“Who is he, then? You already said he’s not your boyfriend.”

“His name’s Sitri,” says Meg, balling up her little fists in anger. “And he’s a demon from Hell. So there.”

Sabrina blinks.

“A demon?” she says. “An actual demon from Hell?”

“Yeah. And he’ll do whatever I want to you, so… just watch it, all right?”

“You really think he’s a demon? Oh, my.” Sabrina puts one hand to her mouth, poorly concealing a laugh. “Sitri, the demon who makes women dance naked? Is that what he told you? I knew you were getting **** for a date, Meg, but this is just ridiculous.”

“He is too a demon! I’ll show you!”

“What’s he going to do? Put a curse on me? Make me dance naked? You have such a cute little imagination, Meg. Now, why don’t you and your stupid fake boyfriend go for a walk or something so I can get some rest?”