"I love anarchy. But then, I always did. Fuck the system, even the demonic system. It's just a rat race where you fill quotas for assholes. Just like I told you." Harry had been a cynic before he was even a demon, he was always telling Sam to watch his back, trust no one and prepare himself for the brutal, crushing realities of work.

"Remember when we went to see that one indie punk band? What were they again? Severed cunts or something gross like that. Your first concert. Fuck me, what a concert that was. That dude threw a beer at you by accident and I nearly died in a mosh pit." Harry laughed, because he could remember the fun. He just couldn't feel it.

He didn't really feel any more. Emotions were for the living, not for demons. "I can't believe we bought a CD on the way out. I hated their music, you did too. I still have the CD."