Rebranding Hell

The Devil aks an advert company to create him a better image

In the glossy, glass-slick tower of Creston & Vale Advertising, where deadlines were sacred and caffeine was currency, no one expected the devil to walk in on a Tuesday morning.

He arrived unannounced, at 9:14 a.m., in a charcoal overcoat with a crimson lining that shimmered like live coals. His shoes didn’t squeak on the marble floor�"they hissed, just faintly, as if resisting friction. His hair was perfectly coiffed, silver at the temples, his eyes a disconcerting shade of molten amber. He carried a leather briefcase that pulsed, slightly, like a beating heart.

The receptionist, a perpetually unimpressed woman named Margo who had once told off a Grammy-winning singer for arriving without an appointment, blinked slowly.

“Name?” she asked.

“Lucifer,” he said, flashing a smile that revealed two faint, symmetrical fangs. “Last name: Morningstar. I’m here to discuss a rebrand.”

Margo raised an eyebrow and buzzed the creative director, Evelyn Stone.

An hour later, Evelyn found herself in the boardroom, facing the literal Prince of Darkness. Her laptop was open. Her notepad was blank, except for the scribbled words “Is he warm? Or cold?” and “Smells like old books and ozone.”

“You want to be liked?” Evelyn repeated, trying not to gape. “You, the entity behind eternal damnation, sin, the fall of man, and TikTok dance challenges… want a softer image?”

Lucifer leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of pomegranate juice that wasn’t red�"it was obsidian-black, with flecks of gold. “Please. Let’s not exaggerate. I’m not evil. I’m misrepresented. Corrupted by centuries of bad PR. Christianity, Dante, Milton… the media has demonized me�"excuse the pun.”

Evelyn snorted. “You are a demon.”

“I am a dissenter,” he corrected. “I asked for autonomy. I stood for free will. I wanted sentient beings to choose, not obey. But noooo�"the Almighty cast me out, angels threw a PR tantrum, and suddenly I’m the guy who tempts nuns and buries souls under molten rock. It’s… offensive.”

He sighed, and a wisp of smoke curled from his nostrils.

“My point is,” he continued, “Hell isn’t bad. It’s misunderstood. It’s hot, yes, but the healthcare is excellent. No cancer. No Alzheimer’s. And the acoustics? Unbelievable for rock ‘n’ roll. I’ve got Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin jamming down there every Thursday. We have yoga classes. Vegan soul food. There’s a bookstore run by Oscar Wilde.”

Evelyn blinked. “Wait… Oscar Wilde is in Hell?”

“Ah,” Lucifer smirked. “He thought heaven would be more interesting. He was wrong.”

Evelyn exhaled. “So�"you want a campaign?”

“Yes. A full reimagining. I’d like to be seen as… enlightened. Progressive. A misunderstood visionary. Think Elon Musk, but with actual charisma.”

“And the horns?” Evelyn asked, eyeing the sleek, obsidian points peeking from his temples.

“Can be stylized. Subtle. I’m open to headbands. Caps. Maybe a hat line?”

Evelyn stood abruptly. “I need coffee.” Then, quieter, “And possibly an exorcist.”

Over the next three weeks, Creston & Vale worked pro bono�"Lucifer paid in favors: stalled elevators fixed instantly, impossible parking spots appearing like miracles, and, inexplicably, every printer in the office began printing in gold ink.

The campaign was titled: “Hell: It’s Not What You Think.”

The first ad featured a serene image of a lava-lit reading nook. A soul reclined, sipping tea, reading The Midnight Library.

“Eternal flames. Infinite time. Finally, you can finish your reading list.”

Another showed a jazz club under a crimson sky. “Live music. No cover. No judgment. Just good vibes and existential reflection.”

There was a commercial�"filmed on location in the Ninth Circle, with permission from the Infernal Union of Damned Performers�"showing a soul rock climbing on obsidian cliffs. Voiceover: “Hell isn’t punishment. It’s potential.”

They launched a podcast: "Conversations with Lucifer." Guests included Socrates, Mary Shelley, and a surprisingly chipper Attila the Hun, who insisted he was "just passionate about leadership."

Social media engagement exploded. Memes appeared: “Me trying to adult vs. Me after one session with Lucifer’s life coach.” Someone made a Hell-themed coloring book. It went viral.

Theologians raged. Pastors denounced. Heaven, reportedly, was furious.

But public opinion? Shifting.

A Gallup-style poll revealed: 43% of Americans now believe Hell could be a place of growth and introspection. Among millennials, it was 62%.

Then came the launch event.

At midnight, atop Creston & Vale’s rooftop, a billboard lit up with the words: HELL IS HIRING. APPLICATIONS OPEN. Below, a QR code linked to a sleek website featuring job listings: “Customer Service�"Eternal Damnation Division,” “Event Planner�"Lake of Fire Festivals,” “Therapist�"Trauma & Regret Specialization.”

And Lucifer stood beside Evelyn, wearing a tailored black suit, no horns in sight�"just a pair of sleek, angular sunglasses.

“See?” he said, watching the city below. “People don’t fear what they understand.”

Evelyn crossed her arms. “You know, I keep wondering… why this? Why now?”

Lucifer turned, and for a moment, the mask slipped. The amber eyes flickered with something ancient, tired.

“Even devils,” he said quietly, “get tired of being hated.”

Then he smiled, and the city lights reflected in his lenses like distant stars.

By morning, the campaign had won three advertising awards.

And in a quiet corner of the universe, somewhere between regret and redemption, a single soul looked up from a book in the library of flames and whispered:

“Maybe it’s not so bad down here after all.”

Hell, it turned out, just needed a better agent.

Reviews

[RKB]

This was hilarious and so entertaining! I couldn't stop giggling. I would love to see this continued. It could be a fun horror if everyone loves hell so much that it gives permission for pedophiles and dictators to be protected (cause otherwise, where would they be in the world in this story?)

Anywho, thanks for sharing!