There was a demon in the bar. Not as shocking as one might think, since said demon lived in the bar. He had a door, he could technically come and go at will, but he didn't see much point in leaving when he had everything he needed right there in the bar. Everything, except phone lines. No, the bar didn't use phones, but a message board for communication. He had thought that one up. He was rather proud of it too, excepting the loss on the telephone. He sort of missed the simplicity of phones, and the complexity. Phone lines were easy to manipulate, really. He once tied up the lines and redircted every call, so no one could call the person they were trying to reach. Ah, those were the days.
But, alas. There were no phone lines to cross. Only the message boards, which again, he took credit for. He could probably come up with some sort of devilish prank to pull on the message boards, if he really put his mind to it. He had a couple of ideas, but there were kinks to work out, and in the end, he was lazy. So, for the moment he was sitting in front of the observation window, watching the destruction of the world time and time again, fascinated by it. Of course, he was fairly certain he would continue to exist, even when man finally succeeded in destroying earth and space. He required neither, to survive, and he needed little more than his angel to thrive.
He struck a reflective, almost melancholy figure, standing there by the window, but he wouldn't mind interruption. Probably.