"What you mean love and guidance?" said Rincewind.

I was thinking of a bloody good wossname, thrashing," said the parrot.

Rincewind clutched at his aching head. If this was what demons usually had to go through, no wonder they were always so annoyed.

"Polly want a biscuit," said the parrot vaguely, in much the same way as a human would say "Er" or "As I was saying", and went on, "His granddad was keen on it. That and his pigeons."

"Pigeons," said Rincewind

"Not that he was particularly successful. It was all a bit trial and wossname."

"I thought you said great big scaly -

"Oh, yes. But that wasn't what he was after. He was trying to conjure up a succubus." It should be impossible to leer when all you've got is a beak, but the parrot managed it. "That's a female demon what comes in the night and makes mad passionate wossn -"

"I've heard of them," said Rincewind. "Bloody dangerous things."

The parrot put its head on one side. "It never worked. All he ever got was a neuralger."

"What's that?"

"It's a demon that comes and has a headache at you."

Demons have existed on the Discworld for at least as long as the gods, who in many ways they closely resemble. The difference is basically the same as that between terrorists and freedom fighters.

Most of the demons occupy a spacious dimension close to reality, traditionally decorated in shades of flame and maintained at roasting point. This isn't actually necessary, but if there is one thing that your average demon is, it is a traditionalist.