You spin through the abyss, your eyeballs careening, and all you can hear is the old witch's keening. “My new office, computers, everything's gone, and it's all your fault, you good angel's spawn!” You're utterly amazed at her power of denial. You wouldn't even be here, if she wasn't so vile.
“Oh shuft upf you crazfy olfd cronfe. Youf'd still havfe all that, iff you'd lefft me alonfe! I'd resignfed myself to Hell, butf you wouldn'ft do it. You ignorefd Satan's orderfs by saying, “Oh screfw it!” You've hafd your fun, but what wafs it wortfh? We've botfh been screwfed, and we're falling througfh Earth!”
You pant with exhaustion, it's so hard to speak, when your lip is split, and your nose springs a leak. The witch suddenly appears in front of your face; not something you want, in your personal space. She looks at you strangely, as if she would bite you. You aren't surprised, she would do it to spite you.
“I never took math, so how far down is this pit?” She asks in a human voice, and you can't believe it. You gasp at the question, and you fairly spit - “It's bottomfless, what do you thinfk, you olfd git?” She turns her head sideways, and amazingly – smiles! Her face isn't used to it, so it looks like she has piles.
“Do you think this hole goes down past Hell?” She sounds almost pleasant, but you can't really tell. “Satan's influence only extends above Hell. What if we're below him in this bottomless well?” You listen and remain silent, what can you say? What else can you do with the rest of your day?
You had fallen so fast you don't know how far you went, so perhaps they had passed Hell in their descent! You don't know what that might mean, until you seem to halt in your careen. You bump gently on something cushy and soft. You land on the back of you, your eyes aloft. In the darkness far above, you see the underside of fire, and you think your situation might not be so dire.
She sits beside you, on what seems to be a cloud - speaking softly, as if she's thinking out loud. “Well, that spell worked, perhaps I still have my powers. Hell is still too close; I'll wait for a couple of hours.” The substance below you sinks comfortably slow, and you learn to relax reluctantly as you go. You don't know what's happening, you don't trust the old crone, but you'll go along with her for now, it beats being alone.