Not who you expected

You expected to see that bitchy manager, but instead a thin girl in only a pink thong sways drunkenly before you. The birthday girl's eyes are glassy and her body is limp. "What trickery is this!?" you roar, spittle flying from your mouth. Your back burns.

"Foolish whore!" a new voice rings out. "You demons are all the same: arrogant and stupid!" The asian manager steps from behind the drunk girl.

"YOU BITCH!"

You attempt to charge the manager, but the salted wound in your back causes you to stumble.

"I suspected my bar would be a first target for you demons," she spits. "I have friends in the church who prepared me for a day such as this." She taps a finger to her cross necklace.

"If that were true," you growl, standing despite your pain, "you'd know how powerful I am."

The Asian woman's face cycles through indignation, disgust, horror, to panic in a delicious second.

"You wanted to see me, Mrs. Wen?" your bartender growls into her ear, clutching her from behind. You picked a perfect thrall; a knife protrudes from his chest, yet he is unfazed. The arrogant church-whore must have forgotten to bless or salt that one.

It seems the Asian priestfucker used some kind of holy magic to control the birthday girl; with the manager's concentration elsewhere, the young woman loses consciousness, collapsing onto the floor.

"Now the party can begin," you say with a smile.