My dear W,
is it possible, my dear boy, you've been giving yourself away a little too much? Your chosen mortal seems to have perfected the art of recognizing your suggestions, and classifying them and objectively looking at them before dismissing them as a byproduct of an external suggestion. Recognition is failure, W.
All Humans suppose their thoughts their own. Little do they know all thoughts are planted, and all by us. Fools, they consider thoughts to be something internal to their physical systems, even sometimes talking about them as if they exist, as if they are real, and can be measured on an electric field.
Your man seems to be the kind of mortal fool who thinks he can indulge, but escape the finality and the consequences of indulgence. You know the type, the kinds who think they can peep into hell and run away when it gets too scary. The idea is to charm them into walking in, not raise their guard as soon as a hellish thought enters their mind. Plant thoughts wisely, W. We must feed their suggestions that it is him who is thinking, that is it him who has thought of the ideas he has, that it is him who will ultimately reap the reward of this thinking.
Give him the idea that he's stressed and 'deserves' a smoke, for example. Then let him think that smoking's the 'only' vice he has. That sort of thing, W. That's what gets us his soul. Even if your man smokes compulsively, knowing its going to lead him to our house, it's still a battle won, although we grudge him his reality check. Its far more amusing to have people here confused about where they are and why, instead of walking in knowingly W. Although, we do know that the realists eventually do break down and regret their purposeful jaunts to hellfire, the element of surprise is usually missing. And that gives us our little kicks, doesn't it W? The happy fool who smokes, or drinks thinking its he who had the thought of smoking or drinking, is our best bet and our merriest experiences.
I have a few suggestions on your other approaches to moral corruption my dear sweet fiend. I'll bring it up for discussion when we meet, for your monthly review. Come prepared for some stingers, you incompetent tempter!