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Derek Zoetewey
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The Market Price of Sweet Tarts and Its Effect Upon Same-Sex Marriage
Two demons wearing red silk skate across a room of ice until they come to two
      dead preachers—two dead preachers whose heads stick above the ice.
“Welcome to our church in hell,” the preachers say. “But until this ice melts, there will be
      no baptisms.”
“That’s okay,” the demons say. “We want to be married.”
“We’re sorry,” the preachers say. “You are same-sex demons.”
“Even if we give you twizzlers and taffy?” the demons say.

“Let us consider the larger ramifications of saying ‘yes’,” say the preachers. “If this is
      permitted, and same-sex demon marriage runs rampant through the halls of Hell, how
      will we know where to draw Hell’s moral line? Even if it is within Hell’s morals, are
      twizzlers and taffy a proper reward?”
“Or,” says one of the preachers, “Shouldn’t we insist upon Tic-Tacs and Sweet Tarts?”

“A valid point,” says the other preacher, “and if we insist that Tic-Tacs and Sweet Tarts are
      necessary to the bargain, what will happen to their market value at the candy store?”
“And most importantly,” says the first preacher, “if the market value goes up, will the
      worker demons be able to afford the product of their own labor?”
“Perhaps it will create a new hierarchy. Satan will bring an efficiency expert to speed
      production. Demons will lose jobs and pursue higher education in a feeble effort to
      reenter the market. They will reinvent the factory machinery, put Satan out of business.
      And then what?” the second preacher considers.
“A take-over. We’ll be under Thor or Kali, or maybe Hell will be privatized, split-level by
      level, ring by ring. We’ll be heads in boiling acid or chewed bubble gum. So you see this
      decision has ripples,” the first says, then licks the ice.

Sixty years pass. The preachers are still talking amidst frozen water. The demons have told
      everyone Sweet Tarts are the key to same-sex demon marriage. There are rumors of
      Satan getting bought out, and no one knows by whom.

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