When There's No More Room In Hell Part 1

(RING, RING)

GOD: Hello?

SATAN: Hey, it's me.

GOD: I'm sorry. Who is this?

SATAN: It's me. The Price Of Darkness?

GOD: Oh, sorry.

SATAN: Why do you do that? You know my voice.

GOD: Do you have any idea how many calls I take a day?

SATAN: This is true. But seriously, who else talks like me? Who else sounds like 100 deep bellowing voices at once? Who else makes the walls in the room bleed when he speaks?

GOD: My apologies. What can I help you with?

SATAN: What? I can't just call and see how it's going? You always think I need something?

GOD: You call like, what, a couple times a year and it's always something with you. Someone wants to sell their soul and you want me to be "cool with it." Or you threaten me with a plague or something.

SATAN: Fair enough. I'll get to the point. You know how I like Hell, right?

GOD: I suppose.

SATAN: Well, here's the problem. It's getting a little... packed down here. And I'm not being dramatic. It's like touching shoulders down here.

GOD: And I'm supposed to do what?

SATAN: Nothing I guess. I'm just giving you a heads up. I mean have we ever thought what might happen if Hell gets too packed?

GOD: Look. It's been nice talking with you. Don't be a stranger, but I've got to go now. I've got loads of calls on hold and it's not like I can say "thanks for holding, I was just on the other line with SATAN"

SATAN: Understood. But if some shit goes down, don't say I didn't warn you.