08:00 - Role Call and Morning Briefing

Sergeant Reeves laid the clipboard with his notes for the morning assembly down on the desk at the front of the dayroom, and rapped the desk three times with his knuckles, as was his usual routine. "Good morning, constables. Today marks the beginning of a very auspicious event in our fair metropolis. I am referring, of course, to Evilcon 08. The convention staff are expecting a substantial number of attendees, and we want to ensure that their stay in Sang Sacre is a pleasant one. Corporal Harrass?"

"Yes, Sarge?"

"Your team will patrol the area around the Convention Center and the affiliated hotels. Speaking of which, Constable Knobsmasher?"

"Yeah, Sarge?"

"How did our mechanical friend make out in his endeavours?"

"Endeavours, Sarge?" A look of perplexion came over Knobby's face as he tried to recall is he'd ever heard the word before, but then he brightened. "Not sure, Sarge. I mean I don't think it's right to pry into a person's private functions, if you know what I mean, even if 'e is a robot."

"I meant his assignment, Constable."

"Oh, right. 'E did 'is endeavours right proper, 'e did. The area 'round the Convention Center is clean as a whistle. You could eat off'n some of them streets. Never looked better, Sarge."

"Very good, Constable." Reeves made a little check mark next to one of the items on his sheet. "Constable Ragman, your team will patrol the Mews and the Quarter. Be especially on the look out for confidence men. I don't want any of our guests returning to their homes in the nether reaches telling tales of how they were separated from their last Jewel of Elysia by a sharpie with three cards and a reluctant queen."

Ragman raised his hand. "Sarge, what about these guests? I hear some of these here conventioneers get a little wild after hours."

"Yes, I'm afraid that some conference goers do seem to get the impression that being away from home at a convention is the perfect excuse to let down their horns and, as the younger set might say, party down to the extreme. While that may be perfectly understandable, we shall have to be firm with them should they step too far past the line of sensibility. To that end Captain Charpe arranged to bring in some visiting constables to augment our staff for the duration."

The assembled constables looked around. "Um, Sarge?"

"Yes, Constable Dobler?"

"When are they getting here?"

Reeves hand was wrapped over the top of his clipboard, and he merely straightened his index finger and pointed it in the general direction of the large window at the back of the room that overlooked the street and Weiler Square. Dobler turned around to look, and being an above average noticer of all things unusual, he couldn't help but notice that two pair of enormous eyes were staring in through the window. Each pair of eyes, in turn, was part of an even larger face. In addition, two enormous right hands each gave a brief wave in the direction of the assembly.

"Gentlemen, I would like you to welcome troopers Leslie and Shirley McCovey of the Coogan's Bluff barracks of the Frontier Patrol."

"Bloody 'ell," muttered Knobby, "they's grolls".

"But we're on the second floor," said Dobler, as if trying to reassure himself.

"Grolls is big," Knobby went on in a whisper. "They's a cross between a giant and a troll."

"Knobby, I think they're bending down to look in the window."

"On their knees, more like," said Knobsmasher.

Reeves rapped for order. "All right then, you all have your assignments. Let's be extra careful out there, shall we."

Thanks DX

[Psst, Gud, I think you posted under the wrong user name.]

"Excellent" I declare after looking over the convention reports.

"Everything is running smoothly sir" says my assistant.

"Good. Has my speechwriter finished my keynote address?" I ask.

"Um......" says my assistant while showing a keen interest in the ceiling.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Um.......You see, the thing is....."

"Yes!?" I demand.

"You were....um....bumped" he says while showing a keen interest in the floor.

"Bumped!? By who!?" I demand.

"They've booked Death."

"Death!? Death!? That guy with the robe and the sickle? He isn't even evil, he's just, you know, inevitable." Being a firm believer in killing the messenger, I reach for my sword. Then I reconsider, it takes forever to fill the assistant job opening.

"I agree sir, it isn't right and you are much much more evil, but you know how many Death fanboys there are in the evil community." He explains in a soothing sort of manner.

I sigh. "Yeah. When am I speaking?"

My assistant looks over his clipboard. "1:00am in the 7th circle conference room, second day".

I nod, 1:00am is a good time slot for Evilcon. "Very well, are there any other events at that time?"

"Um....." says my assistant while showing a keen interest in the window.

"What now?" I demand.

"The thing is...."

Overheard in Sang Sacré:

"Lenny!"

"Phil! Long time no see. Buy you a beer?"

"Sure thing. Here for the con?"

"Yup. Pulling booth duty as usual."

"Still with Angmar Alchemicals?"

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"They're in liquidation."

"No kidding? What happened?"

"It was the crash. After those two midget terrorists took out the Dark Lord, sales went into the privy. The high mucky-mucks panicked. They started adding new product lines helter skelter while cutting staff and raw material spending to the bone at the same time. And I do mean bone. We lost a lot of good sales staff to the cauldrons. Didn't work, of course. You can't grow your sales numbers when half your sales force is in the stuff you're trying to move. When they sacrificed three junior VPs just to make the payroll, I could see the handwriting on the wall."

"So who're you with now?"

"Tartarus Neutraceuticals. We're a new firm, but growing fast. Our CEO just got written up in Dunwich Business News."

"Sounds like you made the right move. How's the floor traffic?"

"Slow. Way down from last year. We're hoping it picks up some tomorrow after the keynote, but I have my doubts. Seems like a lot of folks are saying it's the recession, that companies are cutting way back on travel."

"Hey, it's a tough economy."

"Thing is, it's not really our best show. We'll do a lot better at Transdimensicon over in Lhasa, maybe pick up a couple of distributors on some other planes. We're here mostly to show the flag, you know, get our name out there."

"Well, it sounds like you're doing well... Damn, it's getting late. I'm moderating a panel on alternative materials use in ancient rituals at 8. Stop by if you can."

"Wish I could. I have to put in an appearance at our hospitality suite. Plus, I'm hoping some of Ruddygore Publishing's booth succubi will drop by."

"Okay then, buddy, don't do anything I wouldn't do. Thanks for the beer."

"Any time. Hey, drop by the booth if you get a chance. We're giving away coffee mugs shaped like Urns of Amarvia, and there's a raffle for an iPod Touch. It's number 1236, just down the aisle from Halliburton."

sporfle.

Good show, fellas.

"I'm opposite of who?!" I ask in outrage.

My assistant shuffles his feet and responds quietly. "The four horsemen sir."

"Oh, that's just perfect. I've heard that they are hinting that they'll finally release the apocalypse in 2012, so everyone will be at their panel. Bunch of publicity hounds, they've been hinting for a couple of millennium." I complain.

"Hey, remember how they had that Miller guy going?" Asks my assistant, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Never heard of him." I reply.

"Oh then, never min..."

"Who the hell comes up with these schedules anyway?!" I demand.

My assistant consults his clipboard. "This year it was Sauron in charge of the planning committee. He's had a lot of time on his hands recently."

Understanding comes to me at last. "Of course, he's still angry about my letter to Evil Weekly. I called him the most incompetent evil overload in the history of evilness."

"It was a good call sir. I mean look what..."

"Yes, yes, I'm a genius, nothing new there. Ah well, next year I shall have my revenge. Who is slated for the planning committee for 09?"

Another consultation of the clipboard. "It says Voldemort sir."

"Who's he?"

"Another has-been sir."

The wizard was very old, and although still remarkably spry for a man of his centuries, right now he was one tired old man. Truth be told, he didn't look much like a wizard, having eschewed the traditional robes and pointed hat for a Hawaiian shirt, jeans, and a tweed cap. The only clues as to his profession were the symbols carved into his walking stick, and the badge still clipped to his shirt pocket with the red ribbon hanging from it proclaiming him to be an honored panelist at the con.

It had been a long day, and right now he wanted nothing more than to rest his legs and relax with a nice glass of port. At least, that was his plan when he placed his order at the bar in Milo's, then flopped down in a chair at one of the tables. If it struck him as unusual that a penguin delivered his drink, he didn't show it. He just took a sip of the port, leaned back, and closed his eyes for a second. Or maybe it was longer.

When he opened them again, he noticed another figure standing at the bar. The figure's back was towards him, but it was someone tall and thin, clad in a hooded black robe with a black leather valise hanging from its shoulder by a strap. The wizard took another sip of port, then closed his eyes again. It was only for a moment, because he felt a presence, and not the least little bit of a chill. When he opened his eyes again, he looked up to see the figure standing next to his table looking down at him. At least he thought the figure was looking at him. He couldn't make out a face under the hood, but there were two glowing blue sparks located where the figure's eyes ought to be, and they seemed pointed at him.

"MAY I JOIN YOU?" the figure asked.

The wizard had always found that there was nothing to be lost by being polite, so he indicated the chair across the table and said, "Certainly."

The figure sat, placing the valise upright on a third chair. The penguin arrived with the figure's drink, along with a bowl of ice cubes, then toddled away hurriedly. The drink was very orange, and appeared to have layers.

"If I may," said the wizard, "what is that?"

"A HARVEY WALLBANGER. I'VE NEVER TRIED ONE BEFORE."

A feeling tugged at the back of the wizard's mind. "You seem familiar. Should I know you?"

"PROBABLY."

He thought some more, then he snapped his finger, causing it to emit a brief spark of flame. "Ah! Now I remember. I saw your picture in the program. You're Death. You're here to give the keynote."

"AMONG OTHER THINGS."

"That's a bit cryptic, isn't it?"

Death shrugged, then plucked up some ice cubes from the bowl and wrapped the bony fingers of his right hand around them. "AH, THAT'S BETTER." He got up and grabbed a towel from the bar, wrapped his hand in it, and sat back down. "I'VE JUST COME FROM AN AUTOGRAPH SESSION, AND MY HAND WAS BEGINNING TO CRAMP UP."

"I can sympathize. I used to get asked for my autograph all the time. Now I'm just the old guy they put on the panels to add a little gravitas while the flavors of the month prattle on about mystical singularities and cybermagic and suchlike."

"THERE WAS ONE FELLOW HAD ME SIGN FIFTEEN PHOTOS, BUT HE ONLY WANTED THE FIRST ONE PERSONALIZED. HE SAID THE REST WERE FOR HIS GRANDMOTHERS."

"I hate to say it, but they're probably up on eBay already."

"YOU'RE PROBABLY RIGHT." Death shrugged again.

"So, you said you were here for other things as well as the keynote."

"I HAVE A FEW APPOINTMENTS TO ATTEND TO, YOU KNOW, THE USUAL."

"I guess you have to be on call pretty much 24-7, don't you?"

"YES, BUT I DON'T MIND. THE WORK IS OFTEN SATISFYING."

Death reached into the valise and pulled out an ancient-looking hourglass. The wizard could see only a handful of grains remained in the upper half. "Looks like this poor fellow doesn't have much time left. Anyone I know?" he said with a bit of a nervous laugh.

Death turned the glass to show the wizard the tarnished silver plate affixed to its base. The wizard put on a pair of reading glasses, and leaned forward to read the inscription. "Oh, dear."

"I'M AFRAID SO."

"But I feel fine."

"IT'S OFTEN THAT WAY." Death looked at the glass. "YOU PROBABLY HAVE ENOUGH TIME FOR ANOTHER DRINK."

"Sound idea." He looked around the bar, but the bartender was nowhere to be seen. "Drat. I wonder what happened to that penguin."

I BELIEVE HE'S HIDING UNDER THE SINK. HERE, ALLOW ME. ANOTHER PORT?

The wizard nodded, and Death got up and reached over the bar for the bottle, leaving a small pile of coins on the bar. Then he refilled the wizard's glass and sat down again.

"Thank you. Are you always this nice to your, er, clients?"

"WELL, I AM A FIRM BELIEVER IN QUALITY OF SERVICE. DYING IS CONFUSING ENOUGH FOR MOST BEINGS WITHOUT SOMEONE MAKING IT MORE DIFFICULT BY BEING DIFFICULT." Death paused for a moment, then continued, "BUT I DO HAVE TO ADMIT TO A BIT OF AN ULTERIOR MOTIVE." Another pause. "I'M AFRAID THIS IS A BIT EMBARRASSING. YOU SEE, I'M A FAN OF YOURS. "

"A fan?"

"I'VE ALWAYS ADMIRED YOUR WORK, AND I THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE NICE TO JUST CHAT WITH YOU. I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND."

"No, not at all. I'm very flattered."

"I'M GLAD. I KNOW THIS ISN'T THE BEST TIME, BUT..." Death reached into his valise again, this time pulling out an old, but well preserved spell book. "IF YOU WOULDN'T MIND?"

"Oh, my," the wizard said as he ran his fingers over the leather binding. He opened the cover and scrawled a brief inscription on the title page which he then signed with a flourish. "This always was my favorite." He handed the book back."

"IT'S ALWAYS BEEN MINE, TOO."

The wizard shook his head. "It's a shame, you know. I was so looking forward to attending your keynote address."

"WELL, I DID WANT TO RUN THROUGH IT ONE MORE TIME TONIGHT TO MAKE SURE I'VE GOT THE TIMING DOWN. IF YOU WOULDN'T MIND..."

"Well, I do appear to have freed up some time on my schedule." he said with a wry smile. "I'd be delighted."

"SHALL WE?" The last grain dropped.

Death and the wizard's spirit stood. The wizard looked back at his body. "There's a money pouch inside my cloak. Best leave it on the bar as a tip for our wee penguin friend."

(Just sitting here, my mouth open a little, smiling and reading.That was lovely)