I'm a parna nancherla, this is too hot for radio, and yes, that was the sound of me plotting.

Plotting what, you might ask? Your demise, a nuclear attack, the kidnapping of Dalmatian puppies,

wouldn't you like to know?

Now, usually two hot listeners think of me as someone happy to trot out stories with too many

swears for public radio. They don't, it turns out, associate me with raw, unadulterated

villainy, which is kind of a shame. Because evil is not all

fascists and Batman baddies. It can be the guy on public transportation with the massive

man spread, or the shopper with an overflowing cart that glances at you, demurely holding your

bottle of water and pack of gum, and

start shoveling their mountain of groceries on the conveyor belt anyway. Maybe they pretend they

didn't see you and say, whoops, I'm sorry, but those people are terrible actors and you know

they don't mean it. That is evil in my book.

Now, on the subject of evil, Satan is one of the biggies.

As far as tempting souls into hell goes,

we think of Satan as a pretty freewheeling,

Lacey Fair kind of dude.

You know, if you've got an ugly impulse in you

doing donuts on the neighbor's daisies, say,

we assume Satan is down for that.

Presumably he's into all the sin and iniquity he can get.

But have you ever considered that maybe even Satan has his standards?

That's where this week's story comes in.

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