Devil with the White Sox Cap On

I was nursing a beer in the local pub tonight. A reasonably attractive young woman came in and took the bar stool next to mine. She had long blonde hair and a great tan, which was out of place in Chicago at this time of year. She wore a Chicago White Sox cap. Of course, I recognized her as an angelic alien right away.

I did not say anything to her, but she kept looking at me. She eventually turned to me and said, "you're the Big Think Dude who works on the angelic alien problem."

"That'd be me," I said.

"Can I buy you a shot?" she said.

"Sure," I said.

We drank our shots.

"Thanks, for the shot. You're an angelic alien," I said.

"I figured you knew that," she said.

"What's with the White Sox hat?" I said.

"I'm going to get into a big argument tonight with some unsuspecting Cub fan about how John Garland is the best fifth starter in baseball," she said.

"Does god allow you to do that?" I said.

"Who said god sent me?" she said.

Then she walked out.