A big red Coke machine in the fiery reddish glow of Hell, now there's an image.
We need a graphic artist.
You know, that would have to be one really mean soulless machine to get sent to Hell.
I think I've met it.
Has to be the one that dropped the soda can in such a way that you couldn't get it out of the dispenser slot..
The light flickers in shades of red and darkness. Screams of tortured souls fill the endless night.
In the stillness, there is movement. A ragged, skeletal figure stealthily approaches the softly chuckling Coke machine.
In the stifling heat, droplets of condensation whisper promises of the coolness within. The figure looks around in fear, rising slowly. With trembling hands, it feeds coins into the coin slot. One by one, the coins go in, as the tortured figure looks around guardedly.
Suddenly the machine stirs to life. Whirring and clacking, issuing noises like a riot in a bowling alley, the machine shakes and rocks back and forth. The figure shrinks back, holding its emaciated hands up as if to ward off the onslaught of noise.
On the ridge of the hillside, two Demons arise, looking around as if for a lost sheep. With Demonic agility, they leap from rock to rock in utter disregard of safety.
Immediately they grasp their screeching quarry, and begin hauling the pitiful wretch back to its doom.
Eventually, the machine stops its clanking, and settles into silence. At even intervals, a coin is ejected forcefully from the coin slot, sailing out into the darkness, bouncing and rolling into crevices around the hillside.
The demonic Coke machine settles into quiescence, softly chuckling in its cold mechanical heart.