"THE DEVIL'S ATTACK"
As incredible as it sounds, you can live in New York and be a saint… Well, nobody in particular comes to mind right now, but that is explained by the fact that today saints use to lead anonymous lives. It was the same in the thirties. From that time only one name has arrived to us wrapped in a halo of sanctity: that of Phil Macroy.
Macroy was a small, sickly Irish Catholic who worked as an accountant in an exporting company of tanning creams. Macroy's life was an exemplary life. He didn’t have any vice, with the possible exception of making paper airplanes that he threw out the window of the skyscraper where he worked with the secret hope that the authorities decreed the state of emergency. He always followed the same routine of going back and forth between work and home every day, including Sundays. (For this, he had to force the door of the office, which at the end of the year was a considerable expense for the company. But such was his ability to circumvent security measures that they never managed to catch him). He ate frugally and drank only water except on one occasion when some troublemaker in the office replaced the water of the water fountain with vodka. It was the only time in his life that he got drunk, and although that led to some problems with the police (he was accused of public disorder and resistance to authority, as a result of which he spent six months behind bars) that smudge in his virtuous history could not in justice be attributed to his will.
The fact is that this holy man (Like many other saints who preceded him and succeeded him) attracted the wicked attention of the Evil One. You know who I mean: that pathetic cuckold guy with hooves and a long tail and dressed in raucous red who they call "the devil". Well, the devil set out to twist the straight path followed until then by Macroy submitting him to all kinds of temptations. However, the saint resisted, which so infuriated the cuckold guy in red, that he resolved to make his nights a nightmare.
When Michael and Jacob knew, through their favorite radio show “Mysterious Universe”, about the fierce battles that took place every night in the apartment of poor Phil Macroy (His neighbors spoke of chilling screams of pain and tremendous blows against the walls), they felt so much compassion that they offered to put their experience in enigmatic phenomena at the service of this good cause. With this purpose, one afternoon they showed up at Macroy's apartment and convinced him to allow them to stay overnight with him in order to protect him from the furious attacks of the devil.
After several hours of watching over Macroy’s sleep, they felt a strong smell of sulfur and, in a reddish fog, the damned devil made an appearance. Michael and Jacob were petrified because of the shock. But at that precise moment, the holy man sat up in bed and, as one who comes to fulfill his duty, he stepped forward to meet the terrifying devil.
Without daring to move a finger, the two friends witnessed in astonishment one of the greatest beatings received by someone in this sinful world. When Macroy got tired of punching, he went back to bed and immediately returned to sleep while the poor devil was curled up, complaining and in such a pitiful state that Michael and Jacob felt sorry for him. But when they came to help him, the terrified man in red, perhaps thinking that now there came the relay boxers, hastened to let out a fart that filled the room with a putrid smell of sulfur, as well as a reddish mist in the middle of which the poor devil disappeared emitting one last lament.
Macroy was a small, sickly Irish Catholic who worked as an accountant in an exporting company of tanning creams. Macroy's life was an exemplary life. He didn’t have any vice, with the possible exception of making paper airplanes that he threw out the window of the skyscraper where he worked with the secret hope that the authorities decreed the state of emergency. He always followed the same routine of going back and forth between work and home every day, including Sundays. (For this, he had to force the door of the office, which at the end of the year was a considerable expense for the company. But such was his ability to circumvent security measures that they never managed to catch him). He ate frugally and drank only water except on one occasion when some troublemaker in the office replaced the water of the water fountain with vodka. It was the only time in his life that he got drunk, and although that led to some problems with the police (he was accused of public disorder and resistance to authority, as a result of which he spent six months behind bars) that smudge in his virtuous history could not in justice be attributed to his will.
The fact is that this holy man (Like many other saints who preceded him and succeeded him) attracted the wicked attention of the Evil One. You know who I mean: that pathetic cuckold guy with hooves and a long tail and dressed in raucous red who they call "the devil". Well, the devil set out to twist the straight path followed until then by Macroy submitting him to all kinds of temptations. However, the saint resisted, which so infuriated the cuckold guy in red, that he resolved to make his nights a nightmare.
When Michael and Jacob knew, through their favorite radio show “Mysterious Universe”, about the fierce battles that took place every night in the apartment of poor Phil Macroy (His neighbors spoke of chilling screams of pain and tremendous blows against the walls), they felt so much compassion that they offered to put their experience in enigmatic phenomena at the service of this good cause. With this purpose, one afternoon they showed up at Macroy's apartment and convinced him to allow them to stay overnight with him in order to protect him from the furious attacks of the devil.
After several hours of watching over Macroy’s sleep, they felt a strong smell of sulfur and, in a reddish fog, the damned devil made an appearance. Michael and Jacob were petrified because of the shock. But at that precise moment, the holy man sat up in bed and, as one who comes to fulfill his duty, he stepped forward to meet the terrifying devil.
Without daring to move a finger, the two friends witnessed in astonishment one of the greatest beatings received by someone in this sinful world. When Macroy got tired of punching, he went back to bed and immediately returned to sleep while the poor devil was curled up, complaining and in such a pitiful state that Michael and Jacob felt sorry for him. But when they came to help him, the terrified man in red, perhaps thinking that now there came the relay boxers, hastened to let out a fart that filled the room with a putrid smell of sulfur, as well as a reddish mist in the middle of which the poor devil disappeared emitting one last lament.
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