Harold looked at the plastic bottle. There was a lump at the bottom that may once have been a dribble of banana milk shake but had long since evolved into something else. Something sentient, probably.
"Don't take the top off," said Jasfoup. "There'll be untold consequences."
"Yes. A smell of sour milk and old crabs," said Harold. He shook the bottle, causing the lump to lurch from side to side.
"Not just that," said the demon, "but I trapped the devil that possessed you inside there. Let him out and he'll be free to find rebirth in some careless black-lipsticked teenager."
"There's a devil inside here? Like a djinn in a lamp?"
Jasfoup nodded. "Only without the three wishes, yes. Unless your wishes were 'rip my face off and dance on my bones."
"That's only two wishes." Harold gazed at the bottle. "Perhaps the third wish could be something more lucrative."
"Like 'rip everybody's face off?" Jasfoup shuddered. "I wish I knew what to do with it."