"I hate to invalidate your theory but if I'm here, we are still alive or alive again. A celestial such as myself ceases to exist once we perish." He picked up on the humor but the little note of what he deemed truth couldn't be helped with that little quirk of his about honesty in some form. "I would assume your Lucifer who seems to be a traditionalist beholden to what they write about us. Never play games of chance with disciples. They are terrible at losing," he added as an afterthought, as if Dean might actually encounter one of the twelve and take up a friendly game with them.
Pouring two glasses of fine whiskey, he slid one across the table to Dean. A small toast to employment perhaps. "Most would, which is why they don't receive it as their punishment. The idea is to suffer for deeds done, not find a way to make it hurt less. The Hell I command is not an eternal stay but very few ever make the journey to up above. It relies on their point of view. So you see, it is all of your devising and I am merely warden, demon manager, and distributor of punishment, though not to the innocent as they might have you believe." He leaned back again, arms resting along the top of the booth's back, glass resting as well. "Which is why I much prefer to be here, mingling with you humans and having fun. All work and no play does a dull Devil make." At that he flashed a brilliant smile at Dean.
"Of course you're hired. It would be very hard not to hire a fellow outlander though I did want to see what I was getting into with you. Just wear something dark and well fitting. Not necessarily tight but I am an equal opportunity provider of eye candy in this establishment and I think you'll catch a few eyes."