“What’s with all those random phrases in the chorus of The Devil Went Down To Georgia?”

“They’re lyrics from popular songs. It’s supposed to indicate that Johnny played those songs, and that was the reason he won the fiddling contest against the devil. The devil made up his own really complex, hard-to-play song and played it flawlessly, but Johnny won because he knew his audience, and he picked songs his audience knew and loved, plus they’d know how well he was playing them because they’d heard them before.”

“That's… horribly tragic.”

“what. Why is it… Oh. Oh yeah. You’re an original artist and author, aren’t you. In the age where no one wants to look at anything except fanart of sequels of remakes of film adaptations of comic books. Ha. That’s gotta suck.”

“Fuck you.”

“So all this time you thought doing the popular stuff would be selling out– but now you realize you were the one selling your soul to the devil.”

“Fuck you! No, according to the song apparently I AM the devil. Or possessed by. …Hey, does that mean every time someone makes up something original and does it well, they’re getting possessed by the devil?”

“Apparently so. Fun, huh?”

“But the devil doesn’t always lose, right? Yeah, most of the time he does, like in the song, people’d rather listen to the old stuff they know. But all those popular songs Johnny played were new once, too. Sometimes the Devil manages to write a hit.”

“Guess so. And Johnny used those old hits of his against him. Must’ve been a bitter blow for the old guy, huh?”

“So what makes the difference? Between when the devil’s songs succeed and when they flop?”

“Luck. The point of the story is he doesn’t know his audience… so I’d say any time he succeeds it’s gotta be just pure luck.”

“So… the quintessential personification of the corruption of human souls, the ultimate temptor, whose whole job is to manipulate people, isn’t actually good at manipulating people.”

“Nope.”

“And people are.”

“Yep.”

“…Huh. Guess all the devils really are here.”