"This isn't a problem with the stairs." Lucifer glanced upstairs and shouted, "Mom! Are you all right? You didn't hurt your hand, did you?"
"Listen to him. Is that any way to talk?" Roland's mouth twitched as he turned to the truck driver. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." The truck driver brushed the dust off his clothes. "Just a little dirt on my hem."
"Now you're showing off," Lucifer said irritably.
"Then hit me, idiot." The truck driver raised an eyebrow.
"Hmph—" Lucifer rolled his eyes. "If it weren't for that old bastard—"
"Is that any way to talk about your own father?"
"Heh—as if you respect him."
"Hold on, hold on—" Roland was having trouble following. "Why does this sound so complicated?"
"Because it is—" Lucifer said. "Ugh, this is all that old man's doing. Why is he such a bastard?"
"The Old Testament God? Yeah, he's pretty nasty." Roland nodded. "What did he do this time?"
"You should ask what he did in the past." The Mother of All came downstairs, one arm hanging at her side and the other holding Little Ross.
"Hi." Roland greeted the Mother of All. "Whoa, you really did hurt your hand."
"At your age, you still have such a temper." The truck driver grinned. "You should know what I'm like."
"You little brat—don't forget who gave you your power." The Mother of All glared at him.
"All three of you had a hand in it." The truck driver shrugged. "I'm starting to suspect you set the whole thing up."
"That's not impossible. That old man's a sly one. Maybe Mom and I were both played." Lucifer nodded in earnest agreement.
"Heh—" The truck driver recited a line from Byron. "Of all the living creatures of the field that Jehovah created, only