Geo’s Story – The Italian Comic and His Wife, Satana (a Succubus in Disguise)

Alright, buckle up, folks, because I’m about to tell you a story about my life with my wife, who, let’s just say, is not your average woman. Her name’s Lucia, but I’ve started calling her Satana (or “Satan” in Italian). Why? Because she’s literally a succubus in disguise. Yeah, you heard that right. I married a demon. And no, it’s not because she’s great at cooking pasta.

Let me tell you, I’ve always known I was gonna end up with someone special. I mean, my mom said, “Geo, find someone who loves you, and knows how to make a proper lasagna.” But Lucia? She’s not your typical Italian girl. You know how most wives are a bit... let’s say, “strong-willed”? Lucia took that to a whole new level. She has that classic Italian "don’t mess with me" attitude, except, you know, when she’s asking for your soul as collateral for a second date. Typical, right?

The first time I met her, I thought, “Wow, she’s got the kind of energy that makes people either fall in love or run for their lives." Turns out, she’s a little bit of both. At dinner, she smiled at me like she was about to devour me whole. I was like, “Is this woman hot... or am I just sweating because of this unholy amount of garlic?” Turns out, it was both. She’s hot, and I was sweating for reasons that became very clear later.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to crazy women. My mother raised me, after all. But Lucia—she’s next-level. She has this charisma that could make a priest and a vampire fight over her soul. First of all, she’s a succubus, which means she has this... ability to literally drain all your energy while making you think it’s the best experience of your life. She walks into a room and, suddenly, I’m like, “Who needs a nap when I’m so in love?!” Except, that’s not love. That’s her draining me dry of every last ounce of energy. But hey, at least she does it in style, right?

And Satana, oh boy, Satana’s got some quirks. You know how most wives ask you to take out the trash? Lucia—she asks me to take out my soul. I swear, one night she said, “Honey, I need you to sign this contract before bed.” And I’m like, “Is that a prenup, or are you actually selling my soul to the underworld for extra power?” She’s like, “Both, babe, both. You don’t mind, right?” I signed it faster than you can say “Dante’s Inferno.”

But let’s talk about the positives! No one is more devoted than my wife. Every morning, she wakes up, slithers out of bed (literally, she sometimes does that) and gives me a kiss on the cheek... but with the intensity of someone who’s debating whether she should eat me or just torment me emotionally for fun. Seriously, it’s like living with a cat, but this cat has fangs and a hellish laugh.

You know how in every relationship, there’s that one argument that you just can’t get over? Well, ours is when she doesn’t let me have my gelato. And, okay, maybe I should’ve known better than to ask for “extra chocolate” on top of my already-incredibly-evil amount of chocolate gelato, but Lucia—Satana—takes it personally. One time, I got the gelato, took a bite, and she looked at me like, “You really think you can enjoy this in front of me? After everything I’ve done for you?” I was like, “Babe, we’ve been married five years! Can’t I just have a simple dessert without a demonic lecture?”

But hey, being married to a succubus isn’t all bad. Lucia’s got this magic that makes our intimate moments... unforgettable. Not to mention, she’s great at family dinners. You know, at first, I was worried about her meeting my family. I mean, what do you even say when your wife is a literal demoness? “Hey, guys, meet Lucia, she’s from Hell, and we’re really into each other.” But they love her! I think they just enjoy how she makes them feel like they’re at a family gathering... but with more dramatic lighting and fiery pits of eternal despair. It really spices up Thanksgiving. Plus, when Lucia asks for the remote, no one argues. Why would you? She's not just the boss, she’s literally the queen of darkness.

Now, I’ve learned a lot being married to Satana. First, always offer her a sacrifice before asking her about the grocery list. Second, when she says, "I’m just gonna take a nap," don’t worry—she's probably not napping. It’s more like a quick “hellish recharge.” Lastly, never argue about the Wi-Fi password. She controls the signals. And when she gets mad? You might just find the router spontaneously combusting.

But in the end, I wouldn’t trade her for anything. My wife, Lucia, might be a succubus with a dark side, but she’s my succubus. And no matter how many souls she collects, she’s always been mine—because she’s stuck with me forever... or, you know, until the end of time, which is a long time when you're married to Satana. And honestly? It’s worth it, because I get to spend every day with the woman who can make me laugh, make me sweat, and somehow—always make the best pasta.