The devil's dead, and the Antichrist is pissed. That's pretty much the whole thing right there. Well... there's one more thing: I killed the devil. And the Antichrist is my half sister. (Two more things.) Because Christmas isn't stressful enough, right? Take it from me: if you trick the devil into granting a wish and then kill her while the Antichrist screams at you to stop, family get-togethers thereafter are uncomfortable. But I was up for the challenge! Of course, the trick is making the family get-together happen at all. Luckily I'd married rich (and dead). And even if I hadn't married rich (note I'm not saying married well), my best friend and gestating roomie, Jessica, was also rich. It's weird that I was dead and lived in St. Paul in a snowless winter with two zillionaires, right? Never mind. I used to be so heavily dependent on Hallmark. It had a card for almost everything. Even better, it had a funny card for almost everything. But I couldn't depend on a faceless corporate entity to convey my good wishes, condolences, birthday wishes, Mother's Day howdies, and happy holidays in general, since there were some occasions the good people at Hallmark Cards, Inc., didn't figure anyone would need to cover. And even after the make-your-own-card phase popped up, there were some cards that just couldn't be made, no matter how much money got pissed away at Archiver's. Side note: this DIY crap has gotten