God is Dead!

But that was several days ago. He gave his word to Mary, amidst soft kisses and over held hands, that he would be sure to sleep each night, no matter how wrapped up in work he'd get. And that he'd eat, too. He had felt like he finally was living again, and with very little protest, he brought Jaspre to the institution like he'd been planning, asking them to keep her on a low dose of what Americans called 'thorazine', or something similar. And finally, for the first time since his first week as a human, Mephisto's home was his own. He had called Mary to tell her the new of to that effect, and asked if she'd like to come help him find furniture for the still-unfurnished rooms. He'd only just come into the home, and he had no idea what to get for a regular human home. Castles were one thing, but a proper, cozy home? His last real experience with one had been before the advent of electricity.

So, in essence, there's a fallen angel standing in his empty dining room, summoning and unsummoning dining room sets from lord-knows-where, trying to decide which one pissed him off the least.