"Sure, I guess. Only if you hit me, you don't get a prize--you die." He chuckles like any of this is a laughing matter.

"Beezlemon?" Lester tries, squinting a bit because that shit isn't something he hears everyday. "You a demon, Beezlemon? Sounds like a demon name to me." Not that he knows that many demons to be able to judge, but the guy obviously ain't human.

Hopefully this conversation is distracting enough that when Lester reaches for the shotgun he isn't stopped. If he manages to get it free from its holster, he'll hold it level, pointing straight at Beelzemon's head, grinning. Though he won't get so far without distraction when a splitting headache comes on, shortly followed by drops of blood onto his forearm.

"What the fuck?"