Written for this thread.
You are sitting around the gaming table. Through the dim light you see Big Dean toss his d20 with one meaty hand, and growl, "My dwarf rolls a 19. I hit AC 27. Eat that goblin scum." Smoke flitters past the table fan as a puff of light shines from behind the DM screen.
Pages rustle as a raspy voice grates across your ears: "You hit. The goblin's eyes widen as the blade of your axe severs his head from his neck. The body crumples to the floor as the head rolls several feet, and the beady red eyes blink in amazement, then peer into oblivion." The DM coughs, and puts out his cigarette. He reaches out from behind the screen and places something on the battlemap.
It fills up a 3v3 area. That is huge! As his bony hand slowly creeps back, you hear a gasp from Christina. You turn your head to figure out what the commotion is, and your eyes are mesmerized by the miniature. It's a red dragon! It has fire coming out of it's mouth and little plastic grass that has even been scorched. Little bits of body parts have been strewn across the base, and you see blood. Blood everywhere.
All eyes turn to you as cast your gaze down to your crisp new character sheet. You preordered Heroes of the Forgotten Kingdoms, just so you could atone for your last three characters that have died. (Two of those times weren't your fault!) This time, yes this time, you will conquer. You will prevail. This must be overpowered, right? It's new afterall. WotC wouldn't sell new stuff that's suboptimal.
You will show Big Dean with the hairy arms that you too can read message boards and select optimum feats and items. You will show Christina that you too can roll high when the situation demands it, and when she sees the imaginary bloodied carcass on the ground, she will know that it was you that tipped the miniature over, and maybe she will draw a picture of your character in her notebook.
Finally, you will show the DM that his miniature, that he probably bought off of Ebay because he's a cheapskate, is worth less than the might of your newly printed character.
You turn the page with triumph, and as you slide your fingers down the page, you stop and read your saving grace, your redemption...
"Todd." The skeletal DM hand gestures toward the miniature. "It's your turn, dude. Go."
You look up. You see Big Dean, eating a chicken salad. You see Christina, dear Christina, who is texting (probably her boyfriend), and lastly you see the gleaming miniature, as the cigarette smoke caresses its ghastly claws.
You say, "I summon...I summon...a Spined Devil...Lackey."
Big Dean snorts, "A spined devil what?"
You deflate, "Lackey."
"Couldn't you cast something more, um...useful?"
"It is useful," you are getting pissed. You glance at Christina. Is that pity in her eyes?
The DM says, "Just let him cast it, My raid starts soon."
You place your puny miniature under the nose of the red dragon, you pick up your faded d20, and you think, "Please, please, please, let this be the time. My time. Let my lackey pwn this boss."
You roll, and the die spins, and everyone at the table leans in, and it finally stops on...
A 1. A freaking 1.
You stare in disbelief as you vaguely hear dice rolling from behind the screen, and it's as if you are underwater when the DM says, "The dragon eats your lackey. Christina, your turn."
That, my friends, is why Hexblades should not summon lackeys.