5:30 AM, the next day

Damon: (weak) hello?
God: Why is it always my fault? Don't people understand fucking free will impacts everything? Things like who's in charge when, the weather, how people respond to facts... I'm not in charge of this. I left it to you bitches. It's not my fault, I swear. I had nothing to do with this, and Satan, Satan could give a fuck all. Actually (hands phone).
Satan: Hey, what's up?
Damon: Satan, damn, I haven't heard from you in a long ass time. How you doing.
Satan: God wanted me to come over. Have a little pow wow.
Damon: You still living in Burbank?
Satan: Hell yes.
Damon: (laughs)
Satan: Oh, oh. Fuck it's early.
Damon: Yeah, I'm gonna crash out.
Satan: You got my cell?
Damon: Nah, but I don't have my glasses on, so hit me on the email. If you're free this weekend, it's been too long.
Satan: God mentioned you guys were going to hang out.
Damon: Maybe Friday or Saturday after work?
Satan: Sure.
Damon: Aight.
Satan: Good morning.
Damon: Good morning.