The door swung up, and hot damp air wafted into the imps face as the two buff naked slaves emerged. Jeff had gained at least 190 lbs of muscle and his erstwhile son had gained 290 lbs. They looked like identical twins now. The imp grinned, it loved its job.
"Now slave," he said addressing the one he thought was Jeff.
"Yes, master?" they answered in unison.
"Which one of you is Jeff?" the imp asked testily.
The slaves looked at each other with confusion on their faces. The imp checked his watch nervously, and sighed.
"Should've been for 2 seconds, not two minutes. Every pound they gain the stupider they got. One was the time ratio, 10 seconds in purgatory is like 100 years. So 120 seconds would be, uh, never was good at math 1200 years. Oh, my no wonder they don't remember much. They've been exercising for 1200 years," he sounded disappointed, "I would have thought they'd be bigger being there that long?"
"You're an idiot, Runt," snarled a demon in short coach's short, a too tight t-shirt with a whistle around his neck. He hadn't tried getting socks or shoes on his enormous talons. "They're pure muscle, not an ounce of fat!"
"Boss? Uh, what are you doing here?" the imp asked ringing its hands.
"You know what a gym bill for 1200 years costs, runt?" he said as big pink piece of paper with lots of numbers on it materialized in runt's hand.
"A lot?" Runt said reading the sheet, "3600 souls?!" He sputtered, "That's outrageous! It's incredibly evil!"
"Well, you do work for the Evil One, so what did you expect? Me? I don't want to be one of those 3600 souls, so I figured, I'd best get up here, and help you run a membership drive. The bill is due tomorrow at midnight!" he snarled.
Runt was relieved, the bill was so high that his boss couldn't afford to render him on the spot.
"Membership drive? I know we'll advertise and have a contest!" Runt squealed eagerly embracing the challenge, "And we'll call the school district, then the principals. A contest between high schools and colleges, all trying out our patented workout program. Of course, we'll need a lot of balloons."
"At least 3600," snarled the other demon.
But Runt ignored him, he was too focused now to pay any attention to anything else. "Alright slave one," he said drawing a number one on the slave on the left's chest, and "Slave 2, it is.' He wrote a two on the other slave's chest. "Get out on the street," he said snapping his claws. Suddenly each shirtless buff slave now wore a sandwich board and tight red nylon shorts with matching shoes.