Many do. They like the goodies the Devil gives them in exchange for their immortal souls. They get the fame, power, money & toys.

You give your soul. Your being. You stuff your fat face with epicurean treats every day then your soul is ripped out of your body to be put on display, in a little strawberry jam jar by Lucifer, as the eternal prize.

The Devil collects souls like the rich collect cars. Diddy, the Knottsberry Farm, blueberry-jam-jar kid…? Could it possibly be?

Meanwhile, the children of light fly around in heaven with wings laughing, dancing, singing…and playing a celestial harp feeling sorry for poor Diddy in his eternal confinement to the Devil’s blueberry jam collection in the fireplace of Hades.

Diddy, the eternal jester of Old Scratch? A lost, damned, soul-fly super pimp?

2 videos (Play them at the same time for maximum effect)