I had an imp in a jam jar once. He was comfortable most days. Every so often he demanded to be let out so he could play tricks on those who he said had it coming.
He got into it up Jersey way. He'd been out all night leading Boy Scouts into the pine barrens when an APB went out for his arrest. They cornered him in Chatsworth and then squirreled him away someplace else. But I know his power of persuasion, so I'm holding onto the jam jar.
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