...so everyone knows they get to see Dr. Demon Slayer on a regular basis."

Megan almost choked on her steak. "The who?"

"The demon slayer. That's what the station specified we were to call you.

I was thinking we could get a picture of you holding a pitchfork or something. Maybe a big wooden cross? Sound good?"(Brian)

She stared at him. He lifted his hands and leaned back in his seat, as if he was afraid she might start spitting on him. "Hey, only joking."

"Very funny."

"Oh, I do love jokes." Greyson Dante stood by her side.

"Hello, Mr. Dante. I'm afraid this is a private conversation, so you will, of course, be going now."

His grin widened. Was there no way to insult the man?

Welcome back to Personal Demons." Megan said into the microphone. "Our next caller is Regina. Hi, Regina, how can I slay your personal demons?"

The words tasted like shame.

You let people into your life and you ended up getting hurt. Or hurting them. Either way, the road to pain was paved with other people, and she wanted no part of it anymore

Honesty was for those who could afford it, like heating or electricity or a conscience.

It was her problem, and she'd deal with it. Because dealing with personal problems was so fucking high on her list of skills.