The original sketch can be found here: [link]

Satan: Wow. That's interesting. *inches away slowly*

Me: Critique?

Satan: I am rubber you are glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.

Me: You have nothing to say?

Satan: Needs boobs. What the hell is this supposed to mean anyway?

Me: Isn't it obvious? I'm trying to convey the harsh fact that pants are evil.

Satan: I always thought so as well. Skirts are far easier to get into. With pants, there's all that unzipping and unbuttoning and pulling. I feel like I'm trying to fuck a banana. With skirts, it's much less complicated, especially if they're going commando.

Me: I would imagine so.

Satan: Does any of the completely random shit in this painting mean anything?

Me: I like ducks. And ice cream. Other than that, not really.

Satan: Well that's lame.

Me: Why are you being so crotchety today?

Satan: Leave my crotch out of this!

Me: Is it because there are no bewbs?

Satan: Maybe.

Me: The ice cream could represent boobs. I'm sure some pervert could find a way to interpret it as such.

Satan: Way ahead of ya, sister. Why is that chess piece on fire?

Me: Because I suck at chess. It requires patience. Fuck patience.

Satan: Ya know, I invented chess to destroy the sanity of pseudo-intellectuals like you.

Me: You are thoroughly evil.

Satan: I didn't get this job because I'm pretty.

Me: Well alas, I have to go. Schoolwork calls. I'm writing an 8 - 10 page paper on the various myths surrounding the topic of obesity.

Satan: Calories in: calories out. You are what you eat.

Me: If that were true, I'd be a 125lb bowl of salad.

Satan: As much as I'd like to take the blame for that, I'm afraid the credit goes to my godly benefactor; a notoriously crappy programmer if ever there was one.

Me: I'd blame evolution before he in whom I do not believe.

Satan: Bah. You atheists are all the same. You'll never pass up a chance to plug your obnoxious beliefs in somewhere.

Me: Mea Culpa.

Enjoy.