Was at a beautiful little cottage in the country, enjoying oh, I don’t know, the wonderfulness of simple living, when a stranger in a suit (of course that means trouble) comes up to me to ask me something, and notices my dirty nails.
(real-life aside: my nails get really dirty. I don’t regularly dig in the ground, so I have no idea how they get so filthy by filing papers and typing on the computer. end aside)
He comments on them and asks if I ever wondered why my nails got so mysteriously dirty. But, before I could say anything else, he grabbed my hand to look at it more closely and I instantly knew what he was insinuating. I was a demon. I could never be fully clean.