You were talking to one of the brothers about your boyfriend, Beelzebub.

"I'm not mad that he's fat; I'm just mad that he does fat shit. Just the other day, I was eating, and after I was done, I burned the leftovers just so he wouldn't find out, you know?" you said.

The brother you were talking to chuckled as they nodded.

"Then here comes his fat ass... He yelled my name, and I said, 'What, juicy?' He walks over and drops his voice, saying, 'I smell something.' Then his fat ass sits next to me, looks around, takes two crumbs from my shirt, rubs them together, watches them fall, and then sniffs the air!" you said, trying not to laugh.

As you told the story, Beelzebub came in and heard this story, not even realizing it was about him.

"He looks straight at me, then said, 'Baby, was that Italian beef extra dip with mozzarella, mustard, and peppers on a kaiser roll?' I was going to speak before he sniffed the air again and said, 'And was it cut in half?' And I was like, 'Wait a minute, you fat bastard, how the hell can you tell if a sandwich was cut in half!?' Like, what!?" You screamed as Beelzebub realized it was about him.

What will Beelzebub do now?