Oh man, you don't wanna do this!

I remember the day I've sold my soul to some tanned guy with a perfect (almost shining) white teeth and curly black hair darker than the dark at the bottom of the deepest well you've ever seen.

It was a rainy day in Boston (surprisingly). My first day in the city and one of my first days in the US altogether. I've decided goin' out hittin' some bars would be my best shot if I really wanted to get to know the city - its people, its spirit. I could go on and on, talking about how much fun I've had solely listening to the locals' funny accent (like one guy tellin' his buddy he's lost his "kha-kis", explained here: http://[Suspicious link removed]/10cC7SI )

So anyway, I ended up in this bar right next to the Bank of America Pavilion. Could smell the sea in the air, hear the flock of seagulls (luckily enough not the terrible 80's band, but actual seagulls) and the whiskey wasn't bad either.
To cut a long story short, it was almost 4am and after a long night spent in a lot of local bars, I've inevitably run out of cash. That's when I was innerly reconciled with the fact my night was over and I should head back to my hotel room.

No, not that night! I swear I could smell sulphur when I suddenly saw this slippery guy standing right next to me. Little did I know it was the Devil himself! Offering me one last shot of anything I please on his own tap if I sell him my soul. Of course I accepted, I've never thought soul could possibly have any monetary value, it's just some imaginary thing, right? Bollocks! He didn't even need any nice-lookin' certificate like you're offering, he just made me say out loud some words in latin I don't remember anymore. And that was the moment when I lost my soul for good.

Not only did I puke and couldn't eat anything for the next 2 days, suffering from terrible headaches and insomnia. My gf broke up with me because I was supposedly dancing and flirting with other girls that night (I don't remember doin' that, nor would I ever have, I'm not that kind of a guy. Must have been the Devil's work, dammit!).
I've also had a car accident on my way back to NYC only to find my appartment was robbed while I was gone. My whole life just started to spiral downwards and now I see you tryin' to sell your soul for pretty much the same price I did (one shot of Jack Daniels). The least I can do is warn you...