No, not a spider.

An skeleton made of tapioca.

The jelly-things were disgusting, but this is worse.

"Too late there," I say, as grimly as possible. It's hard to be grim properly when you feel like you're about to vomit again.

Oh dearie dearie me.

I look at Miracleman in horror.

"You didn't just say what I think you did. Please tell me you didn't forget one of the basic rules of magic, and just spoke into being a very nasty idea. Because it sure seems like that's what you just did."

"Now what?" Bob the vampire says, seeing I've gone pale. Paler.

"I feel a trembling in the--"

"Don't finish that, please."

"Well, I do. As if a thousand souls cried out in anguish and then were--forced to vote in an election."

"No! Oh, that is evil."

"We start off with making a case for new leadership." Explains one of my demonic consultants. "We'll point out how under the current mayor the city has nearly been destroyed by the forces of chaos, an army of orcs, hordes of undead and whatnot. We can also bring up the odd rain of frogs and that sort of thing."

"Will the leading-the-orc-army issue come back to me if we run with this?" I ask.

"We can spin that."

"Good. Good. Do I need to have a position on anything. "

The consultant shakes horned head. "No. No. We'll just run negative and just be vague about what your campaign actually stands for."

"Perfect, when do we start?"

"We'll start airing the ads immediately. Then..." The demon's cellphone starts to ring. He takes the call while I use the pause to look over my 'Shatner' curse. Apparently the curse causes the victim's collection of recorded music to be replaced by someone called William Shatner singing the same lyrics. It doesn't sound like a terrible curse but Carl's didn't have a great selection.

"Good news." My demon consultant tells me. "We've got an interview setup with a local TV station at the burned out remains of the Krispy Kreme store. It'll be perfect for a law and order speech."

"I'll need to make a stop to deliver a curse."

The consultant looks at his watch. "Okay, but we need to leave right now."

I head for my mount but the consultant stops me. "Um, we think that a hellish horse-thing sends the wrong message. We've lined up a hybrid car to travel in."

I sigh. I damn well better win this election.

"What? No, no I wouldn't.

Yeah. Yeah, I did. Sorry."

I have to think. What we need to counter an election is, of course an opponent for Aeshma. Not me...I don't play well on camera and my debating skills are usually limited to "Oh YEAH? Well, can YOU destroy, say, YOUR HOUSE BITCH?" So it'll have to be...

Hell, I dunno.

"You think an incumbent has better odds than a new candidate for our side?" I ask.

"new candidate! mayor clovis!"

I place a hand over Clovis' mouth and look down at him.

"Not on a bet. There is NO way I would endorse you for mayor, so just calm down."

A new day finds me out in the garden, making some final adjustments. I'm almost ready to take the system live. Most of it anyway; Antarctica's going to have to wait. The temperature differential's beyond its capabilities right now. I've asked Doug to work on it. He seems to enjoy tinkering with gadgets.

"I saw that sign you put on the front gate, by the way."

I don't look up. "What sign?"

"Just say no to Dougs."

"...Did I spell it wrong?"

He sighs, and heads over to the Madagascar section to check the diagnostics. "So explain to me how this all gets powered."

"Ah, now that's particularly clever. Each of the sections has its own solar panels. When it's all up and running, they'll effectively be connected through the central circuits, so they can share power. And since they're pretty widely scattered, there'll always be some that are receiving sunlight."

"Ok, but they're not connected yet. How are you going to start it up?"

"Yes, well, that needs to feed off the city's grid. It won't take long, though. Shouldn't be too expensive."

He seems about to say something, but catches himself. "Well, I'm sure you know best. By the way, how sure are you that this is all going to work?"

"Well, I've had a test region running for a week or so now without incident. The rest should go just as smoothly."

He perks up. "Really? You didn't mention this. You wouldn't think that I'd interfere, would you?"

"You are an evil twin."

"Pfft. Evil has no meaning. I heard someone say that on TV last night."

"Not exactly what he meant. But anyway, the reason I didn't tell you was because I didn't know if it'd work, and didn't want to get your hopes up."

"My hopes up? Why?"

"See, here's the deal. Suddenly evil twins pop up all over the city. Don't you think that sooner or later, someone's going to find a way to send you all back?"

"Well, perhaps, but--"

"No perhaps. It happened last week. Spell went through Sang Sacre, shoved the evil twins back into the mirrors. Most of them, anyway."

He arches an eyebrow. God, that's annoying. "But I'm still here."

"Correct. Follow that cable, would you?"

His eyes trace along its length. "It connects to the outside fence. So you're saying..."

"Yup. the test region is this property. For the last week or so, we've been out of synch with the rest of Sang Sacre. No one, including that spell, gets in - indeed, there's no in from their perspective - unless they can control the gate. Or if I turn it off, of course. Which I will shortly - no sense in wasting power. I have all the data I need for starting the other sections."

"Hm. So are thanks in order?"

I wave a hand. "Well, you seem to be short on nefarious schemes right now, you're pretty handy with these gadgets, and you're reasonable company. I figured sending you back now was premature. And now--" I stand up "--I do believe we're ready. You can throw the switch if you like."

"Maniacal laugh?"

"Optional."

"Fair enough." As he presses the button, I muse that maybe I should've made the control a little more melodramatic - maybe a big brightly coloured lever or something. Ah well.

And it all hums into life. A moment later, the hum rises in pitch, sparks fly from various directions and a minor explosion knocks the power cord out of the socket. I look up to see lights going out all over Sang Sacre. Well, bugger.

Doug smirks. "Thought that might happen."

I sigh. "I think we want to get the perimeter up and working again soon. Before people work out who did this, anyway."

"No problem. Just hook it into the main system."

"Huh?" I turn around. Well, look at that. It's working.

"Doug? That maniacal laugh might come in handy right about now."

"Penny! How did you get here?"

She says something about glasses and a puddle. Her words come out sort of odd and backwards, like the little man in the dream sequence from Twin Peaks. Only I don't see any subtitles.

The little bear is hiding behind my leg, trembling and babbling about Clovis. Is Jilli's rabbit somehow involved in this?

"What's the point in questioning her?" Snidely asks. "She's clearly unstable. She's wearing her underwear on the outside."

I don't bother pointing out that our underwear would probably be on the outside as well, except that we're not wearing any. "We may be able to get out the way she got in," I say.

"Won't work," says the formerly couch-bound me. "There are lots of ways in. You could get in through your true love's limpid pools, but it'd be hell getting back out that way."

"Then let's stop talking and find a way," says Snidely.

"Fine." Wishy-Washy waves his hand, and the lights go out. The TV with ita hovering in mid-kick, the couch littered with nacho dust, the rug. There's nothing but darkness.

"It's your funeral, dude. Or, well, ours. Huh. Say, uh, guys? There's something I forgot to mention."

"What would that be?" I ask, reaching out for Penny's hand. The teddy bear is still clinging to my legs. A chill is settling over us again. The leather pants aren't helping.

"The monsters."

"Monsters?"

"Yeah. They're, like, slender and jagged and cold. And mean and quiet. And they like the dark. And--"

"Shut. Up." If I could see him I'd be killing him. I swear, I saw this movie. "Do they fly?"

"I don't think so."

"Penny?" The Do-Gooder doesn't sound the least bit perturbed. Of course. He's too stupid to be afraid. Me, I'm wound so tight I'm ready to snap.

"Knut?"

"Walk behind me. You two!" he calls out, as if we were sidekicks.

"What do you want?"

"I want you two to stay close to me. We'll protect Penny and . . ."

"Edward."

". . . Edward with our bodies. That way if we're attacked--what was that?"

"Probably my teeth chattering," I say. "It must be thirty below in here."

"Nah, it's colder than that," says Wishy-Washy.

"Quiet."

There's a crystalline scraping in the shadows, a faint high humming that seems to come from everywhere at once. I move closer to the Do-Gooder's voice, figuring strength in numbers if nothing else.

"That'd be them," says Wishy-Washy. "You know, there's a problem with your plan."

"What's that?" asks the Do-Gooder. I'm about to ask what plan, but I can't stop the spasming in my jaws.

"Bodies made out of rock don't mean much in here. I think they can pretty much cut into us whenever they feel like it."

My shoulders touch the others', and we're standing back to back to back, with the woman and the bear inside the triangle.

"Then we will go down fighting," says the Do-Gooder.

Idiot. I clench my teeth and take a deep breath. "If you've a curse to unleash, woman, then now is the time."

Having cursed my nemisis and delivered my first campaign speech on the burned out remains of Krispy Kreme, I return to my lair only to be informed that I need to work on preparing for reporters. Running for Mayor is turning out to be more work than I had anticipated.

A demon dressed up to resemble a reporter pokes a metal stick in my direction and speaks. "What are your plans for addressing the cit...."

I draw my sword and messily cut him in two.

My campaign consultant wipes some blue ichor from his face. "Okay. I think we might want to handle the questions with less evisceration."

"He annoyed me."

"It's what reporters do, but killing them projects the wrong image. We're going for a kinder Aeshma in the election." He waves forward another volunteer to ask a question.

A short demon picks up the metal stick and asks a question. "What are your plans in regard to the budget shortfall for road repair?"

I remember my consultant's advice and stay my sword hand. "I am committed to providing the best possible economic climate possible and infrastructure is an important component in that plan."

"Good answer." Comments the short demon.

"Of course it's a good answer. I am Aeshma." I messily lop off his head.

"Better." Comments my consultant.

"Hey boss, the first batch is in." Says Deimos as he brings in a box.

I open the box and inspect the bumper stickers. They all have a rather nice picture of me and the slogan, 'A vote for Aeshma is a vote for a new future.'

"Good work Deimos."

"This is nothing boss. We've got yard signs, buttons, hats, pamplets and everything."

"Excellent, I'll summon a horde of skeletons to distribute them."

My campaign consultant coughs. "Um. The image thing."

"Fine. Freshly dead zombies then." I give my consultant a glare daring him to question this perfect solution.

"Good enough." Says my consultant.