Leg Post 61 is an April Fools' Post by Al Ciao the Writer. In an untidy mansion is James Sevenicci, otherwise known as Jim7, is readying for another day of heavy drinking and rock music. As he sits on his throne, however, he is engulfed in flames and stench. He instantly knew the culprit of poop on the chair was Rachel Pi, otherwise known as April Fools. She appears on his television, laughing at him. He reminds her that he is not the Devil anymore and asks why she isn't with her family. She asserts that her husband, Gebohq Simon, is the househusband while she has work as April Fools to do. She then vanishes from the screen. He calls Farr into the room to get him to plot revenge on Rachel and demands that Farr's Girlfriend clean up his chair. She refuses as she isn't his housekeeper but Jim has nobody else to do it. Farr offers to do it but she reminds him he isn't working for Jim anymore and she expects him to come to bed with her, which he does, leaving Jim to ponder hiring a butler or security.



A luxurious mansion is a god-awful mess of beer bottles, clothes, and various other items, strewn everywhere. In the den, we see an easy chair amidst the mess, designed to be extremely comfortable, with cupholders and a remote control attached with a cord so that it never gets lost. It's in front of a 4 foot tall, 6 foot wide TV screen, which is currently turned off.

A door opens, presumably from a bedroom, and James Sevenicci - more commonly known as Jim Seven - comes out. His bedraggled appearance is not due to any hangover (though he drank more than enough for a mortal to be very hung over indeed), but due to his heavy metal and/or grunge and/or hard rock appearance.

Random Audience Member: There's a lot of difference between metal, grunge, and rock!

Yes, but the writer of this post isn't versed in them and isn't quite sure which Jim Seven is supposed to be, and I'm not paid enough to figure it out. Anyway, Jim walks to the easy chair and collapses into it, ready to start another day of hard music and hard drinking.

No sooner does his arse hit the seat, than an awful squish is heard as flames WHOOSH up around him, and a horrendous stink permeates the air.


He is completely unharmed by the fire, though his clothes are ruined, and his skin is cartoonishly blackened for a few seconds before the blackness flakes off. The TV turns on, and we see an Asian woman laughing merrily at him.

Rachel Pi: You didn't really think I'd forget, did you?

Jim Seven: I'm not the Devil anymore, dammit, I'm retired!! No more flaming bags of doggie doo in my infernal throne!

Rachel Pi: Close enough for me! Besides, the current system they've got going on isn't as much fun and games as you were.

Jim Seven: I thought you were retired too, to start a family with that Qhobeg clone.

Rachel Pi: He's not a clone, he's the original one whom all those clones came from! And Geb's the househusband. I'm still keeping busy as the personification of April Fools. Until next time! Ta-ta!

The TV winks off, and Jim Seven grumbles to himself.

Jim Seven: FARR!

The former Devil's best friend for over 12 millennia stumbles in from another room after a few minutes.

Farr: Wassup, boss? WHOA, what's that stink?

Jim Seven: Rachel's still up to her old tricks.

Farr: What? But you're retired!

Jim Seven: That's what I said. Go plot some revenge for me! A Canadian-made pie to the face maybe. Or SEVERAL Canadian-made pies to the face? I dunno. Figure it out!

Farr: I thought you liked dishing out revenge personally?

Jim Seven: Normally, yes. But I need to take a shower and get this stink off me! Get your girlfriend to clean up this chair.

Farr's Girlfriend: *calling from inside the bedroom Farr just emerged from* I am not your housekeeper!

Jim Seven: Who else is gonna do it? I don't have demonic butlers at my beck and call anymore!

Farr: I'll do it, babe! After I plot some revenge for Jim.

Farr's Girlfriend: Oh no, you don't. Get back in here and keep spooning with me.

Farr: But Jim'll dip me in boiling oil if--

Farr's Girlfriend: He's not the Devil anymore! Worst he can do is jack up the thermostat.

Farr: Oh, right. Sorry, boss.

Farr disappears back into his bedroom, the door closing behind him.

Jim Seven: Damn, he's whipped.

He pauses, sulking in his chair for a few moments.

Jim Seven: I really need to hire some security. And a butler. Maybe a combination security-butler! ...Is there such a thing?

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