"I'd like to join the workforce, please. Can I be one of those big guys with the whips? Pitchforks are cool, but I'm really more of a whip man myself."

"You do realize that there's no working off your damnation down here, right?" The devil said, casting a scrutinizing eye down on the new arrival.

"Oh, yeah, that's totally fine. I want to volunteer." The eager young man seemed unafraid in these surroundings which often broke the damned within moments. Something about him made Satan's crimson prick perk up.

"Volunteer? Really? I mean, I've got demons for that kind of stuff..."

"C'mon... Please? I'm a great torturer! That's actually why I'm here."

"Hmm," the devil pondered the vicious little creature, aware that sadists were generally harder to destroy, the will of their ego being stronger than your average petty blasphemer. "Okay, I'm going to give you a shot..."

The devil motioned for the man to speak his name, and he excitedly did. It was Dave.

"Dave, you're gonna work for me," Dave the torturer began jumping up and down in celebration, yelling Satan's praises. The devil waved a hand and suddenly Dave was unable to speak, his mouth sealing over. "Don't blow your load quite yet… You're going to have to work your way up to it. I know you want to be a demonic torturer, but I need my staff to prove themselves worthy first…"

"I will do whatever you ask of me, my Dark Lord…" Dave whispered reverently, bowing before the throne. 

"Alright, alright... take it down a notch, will you? First things first. Go scrub all the latrines in the demon barracks. That should take a while. Do not return until it is done…"

That was 14000 years ago, and Dave is still in the demon barracks, scrubbing away in the vain hope that one day the job will be done, and that he'll finally be allowed to whip some people…