Little Writing I Did Of A Character I Made. He's So Pathetic I Love Him :3

Little writing I did of a character I made. He's so pathetic I love him :3

The man was tall now that he was standing straight. Under his chin was filled with stubble, looks like he forgot to shave under there. He had a pencil mustache above his lips. His grin showed teeth a blinding white unusual for his unkempt demeanor. He had a comb over, hiding his quickly fading hair, two devil horns sprouted from his head matching his blood red skin. He wore a black and white Hawaiian shirt with a couple unbuttoned buttons on the top and bottom to give room to his prominent gut. His cargo pants allowed people to see his hairy legs covered in bruises and scabs in the process of healing. He looked like he was going for Gomez Addams, a mafia boss, and retired cop all at once. “Elizabeth, good to see you. Can your uncle give you a hug?” His accent was one of a gruff New Yorkin, that noticeably sounded like he was holding back tears. “Of course.” She opened up her arms and wrapped them around his abdomen including his large and squishy stomach. He wasn’t really her uncle but Lucifer Paradiso was referred to as uncle by all undead creatures. “Hey, have you seen your dad around? I need to talk to him.” His mouth smiled, his eyes did not. “Oh, I um.. No I haven't… sorry…. If you don’t mind me asking, why do you need to see him?” His face showed the aura of grimness behind his fake grin, it always did. “Oh, you know the big G upstairs…” he cleared his throat as he often did before one of his moments. “He told me not to call him that by the way, HA, can you ‘magine. Like sorry for trying to commit divine regicide about a trillion years ago, like I said sorry. Can’t even use a cute little name like ‘big G’” Eli knew rambling was the next stage before the meltdown. Now he just needed to mention Jesus and he would let go of his thin faux mood. “I mean JC never treats me like that. He is very forgiving. Why can’t it be like father like son, am I right….?” 1, 2, 3 “God, Eli” He placed his face in his palms. Tears didn’t leave his eyes but his gruff voice was weak in its affliction. “The reason I need to see your dad is because I’m kind of in debt with mister, God almighty.” His voice was in a mocking tone when he said “God almighty” but his heart clearly wasn’t in it. “Apparently I haven’t been getting enough souls of late. I miss the days of Faust where someone wouldn’t question too hard about selling their eternal soul for limited mortal power and riches. Now everyone is always like ‘why would I give you something infinite for something that lasts only a lifetime.’ Like shut up and just give me your soul, I’m in severe debt and need it more than you.” He kept rambling till Eli’s dad returned to find a sobbing Lucifer Paradiso on his couch with his 16 year old daughter comforting him like a therapist.