If only you could talk to the monsters. Now that would be something. So, why not ask our resident agony aunt-monster Ian Cacodemon for advice and tips on anything you need help with? Ian awaits your queries on Twitter here or via email here, and will post selected replies on RPS on a semi-regular basis.

This week, Ian offers guidance on chainsaws tidying, magazines, imp-cacodemon relations and dodgy Nigerian investment deals.



Mrs Sarah Pilkington-@jd_cohen of Tunbridge Wells asks, “Dear Ian, do you subscribe to any print magazines?”

Ian replies: Sarah, I’ll try to be gentle here, but are you at all aware of just how offensive your question is to me, my family, friends and neighbours? We proud denizens of Hell were happily minding our business until around about 1993 (in Earth years – it’s just 2 in Hell years), until, quite suddenly, our sulphurous and unpleasant land was invaded by legions of filthy, noisy humans and their filthy noisy guns. Not a one of them even tried to to talk us. They took one look at our spiny faces and our altars made of torn flesh and bones and presumed, simply presumed that we were bad people. They killed so many. They asked nothing. And do you know why, Sarah? DO YOU KNOW WHY?

Because a number of print magazines had carried the demonstration of an electronic videogame called ‘Doom’ (‘Doom!’ I ask you) on small plastic squares taped to their front covers. This, in turn, led to untold legions of spotty teenagers deciding that my friends and I were appropriate targets for their murder fetishes. PC Format, PC Gamer et al – they are directly responsible for the genocide of my noble, murderous people, and they should be ashamed of themselves. Do I subscribe to any print magazines? No, madam, I most certainly do not.

Apart from ‘Cross Stitch Crazy’.

Ms Stephen Schulze of Boddington asks:

“Dear Ian,

I’ve often wondered whether the name given to your kind by the human invaders – “Cacodemon” is some form of racial slur, “caco” meaning “bad” as you’re no doubt well aware. If this is the case, I’m wondering whether there is another name, perhaps one in your own language, for your kind that you would consider to be more politically correct. I guess another pertinent question would be – if the word Cacodemon insults you and others like yourself, why do you allow Rock Paper Shotgun to openly use the term on your own articles. Perhaps I am misled on this whole topic, but it’s something that I’ve found to be quite troubling and I would be interested to hear your thoughts on the matter.“

Ian replies: You raise a valid point, Stephen. It’s still an awful lot better than what my wife calls me, however. You, meanwhile, are very welcome to call me ‘Ianykins’ or ‘sweetie-plums.’

Mr Stephen Dikkobi of Nigeria asks:

“Dear Sir/Madam,

I run a law and consultancy firm here in Nigeria.

I have presently four clients with enormous funds for investment overseas.

A) My first client is a POLITICIAN. He is presently a senator. His fund is usd350million with good terms/condition.

B) The second client is amount belonging to a Nigerian wife of former president Charles Taylor of Liberia. Former president charles taylor married her while he was in exile in Nigeria. The fund was deposited in a finance firm in the name of his Nigerian wife. The value is usd150million also with attractive conditions.

C) The third is usd85 million belonging to a former minister during the of the federal government.

D) The forth is usd35million belonging to a foreign diplomat in Africa. Kindly choose any of the amount above as needed for your investment and inform me in your return reply. NOTE; If the amount is too much for you, just indicate how much fund you need as we can invest your desired amount with you out of the total value of each fund. Once i receive your reply, i shall revert to you with more details, pass port copy of the investor, certificate of deposit of the investor, terms and the way forward. Regards

Stephen” Ian replies: I don’t quite understand, Stephen. Is this some kind of menu? In that case, I’ll have the foreign diplomat, please. Medium rare, if you will – I don’t like my meat too chewy. Oh, and some onion rings on the side please. $35 million? Well, that’s on the pricy side I’ll admit, but there are an awful lot of high-end rocket launchers and green power armour sets lying around my house, so it shouldn’t be a problem if I can find a moment to pop to the local pawnbrokers. Nigel Archvile there knows I’m good for it, he’ll sort me out.

Dr Edward Fiala Bsc (Hons) of Beachy Head asks:

“Hi, it’s me, Imp. You know, from MAP01? Back on Earth? Anyways, I was wondering if you could use some of your influence around here to tell some of these insipid brain-deads around here to start picking up some of the shotguns and chainsaws left lying around for that damned marine in that awful green jumpsuit. I’ve put in a complaint with the Board of Hellish Equipment and Evisceration, but they just blow me off.



Ian replies: oh, so we’re talking again now are we, Edward? You’ve gone out your way to avoid me since you touched Sharon’s horns at that dinner party in 2008, and you know it. And now you think you can pretend nothing happened and we’re all friends. Sharon wasn’t able to breathe any lightning for a fortnight after you put your scaley hands on her, you know. I am most certainly not going to help you sort out the rubbish in your own backyard. If you’re not not man enough to face up to those damned zombies face-to-face, that really is not my problem in the slightest. If you so much as walk past my door I’ll take this quad damage I’ve been saving for a rainy day, and then you’ll be sorry. You get out of here, you fireball lobbing scum! You and your kind make me sick.

Wait, wait, I didn’t mean that by ‘your kind.’ I meant, uh, imps who try to chat up other demons’ wives. Not all imps. Some of my best friends are imps. What? No, I’m not going to name names. Just take me on my word. I’m a nice guy! I get on with everyone, no matter how workshy and stupid they are. No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, I was referring to the zombies there, I… Oh, dammit. Well, this makes us even, right?