There is a special circle of hell reserved for some of the employees and most of the upper management of Comcast. In this place, it is terribly hot. The Comcastdamned desperately seek water because their tri-forked tongues (one tongue each for phone, internet, and cable) are forever peeling, blistering, falling off and regrowing in their mouths.
A band of devils have a monopoly on water in this fiery place. The Comcastdamned ask the devils for water. The devils reply that they would be happy to give them water. There are several scenarios which play out over and over again, indefinitely, until the end of the universe.
- The devils ask the Comcastdamned to wait in a certain tar pit from 9 am – 4 pm tomorrow, when a devil will arrive with water. The devil never arrives. The Comcastdamned’s only recourse is to schedule another appointment.
- The devils hand the Comcastdamned a jug of water. When he or she tries to drink it, the water turns into hot oil. The Comcastdamned complains that the jug is not water, but hot oil. The devils reply that it looks like water on their end, so the problem must be with the Comcastdamned’s lips.
- The devils give the Comcastdamned a drop of water in exchange for one of their fingers, which the devils chop off. The water evaporates on the Comcastdamned’s tongue before it can be drunk. It is not enough. The Comcastdamned offers another finger in exchange for a second drop of water. The devils provide the drop, but chop off an entire hand. The devils explain that the one-drop-for-one-finger price was an introductory offer which expired after that first drop.
The devils are big believers in choice (they run hell, after all), so the Comcastdamned can choose which scenario they will endure. But of course none of their options will ever quench their thirst. In rare moments of lucidity snatched between the searing pain in their mouths, this situation seems eerily familiar to the Comcastdamned.