Your first job for Satan

About a few minutes after leaving the building, you were freely exploring the surrounding buildings, passing through walls and all sorts of security to have a look see at what was what in these parts. From what you could find, it was all pretty much the same kind of ordeal for most of the late shift employees in their respective cubicles. You had to thank Satan for giving you this second chance. It seemed so much better to be dead than alive. Here in the in between, there was no boundary you could not cross. At least, from where you have been anyway. Just as you were about to intrude into another building, you suddenly hear a familiar voice calling out from the reflective window. Turning to face it, you see the decadent face of your new employer, his apparent jazz hands giving you a very casual greeting.

"Hello, sport! Satan here! Looks like you've been having a bit of fun already. I like what you've done to that poor naughty woman." He cackled and snorted.

"Yeah. Mrs James had that a long time coming and I got to drain my balls into that bitch's cunt." You proudly puffed out your ghostly chest at your achievement.

"Small time, sport. Small time." The red devil cackled again, "You're way off yet from being doing some real bad around here, but you're off to a good start! I'll be watching your progress, so impress me! In any case, ghost pal, I got a job for you. Its purty urgent so you gotta get to it a-sap, ya hear?"

"Sure, pal. What's the job?"

"A bunch of chicks at the local college have been trying to call me for the past few nights, but I've got bigger fish to fry than play with a bunch of sorority cats looking to curse their teachers, make some jock cheat on another girl, burn some other bitch's face off, or something or other. I want you to go to the catacombs of the old abandoned church on their campus and see what they want." Satan shrugs sharply, "Then you can either give it to em, or not. I don't care what you do. I just want them to stop calling me. Ya dig?"

You looked a little confused after hearing what he said, "Wait, you want me to pose as you? I'm not you! They'll know I'm something else-"

"Pffft, chillax, pal. They're doing witchcraft like they've never done it before. They won't be able to tell the difference between a hellhound and a used tampon! They're using chicken bones, for Hell's sake. Chicken bones!" Your devil pal cracks up laughing, "Anyway, do whatever you want with them. Play with em. Fuck em. Whatever. Just make em stop calling before they figure out they aren't doing their summoning right."

"Er... Okay." You were still a little unsure, but it sounded fun. Especially the 'do whatever you want' part.

"Oh, they'll try to talk to you a lot. They'll even ask for your name. That demonic name ritual mumbo jumbo hasn't worked since the Salem witch trials so use whatever one of my names, or not. Ball's in your court, bub! Laters!"

As the reflection of your jolly new boss dissipates in a puff of yellowy red smoke, you were left to ponder on how you were going to do this.