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an eyebrow he didn’t have.
    “Oh, yeah,” said Victor. “It was all over the place. It was a mess like you wouldn’t believe. Preventing inter-dimensional travel is some messy business, let me tell you.”
    Pain suddenly felt an inspiration.
    “What if I told you,” began Pain, “that this High Priest of whatever was still up to his old tricks?”
    “Do you think that's something you're likely to tell me?” asked Victor, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
    “It might be.”
    “Then I think I might be a bit upset,” said Victor. “I might even be highly motivated to try and prevent him from ensnaring other people of this dimension and secreting them away to his. That's just wrong. And a bit tacky. I mean, one should pick up chicks in their home dimension.”
    “Maybe he doesn't have Internet in his dimension,” said Death, “and has a hard time making a love connection. This planet is pretty well known for its loose people.”
    Pain glared at Death.
    “What?” said Death. “It's true. This planet is practically a red light district.”
    Ignoring Death, Pain said, “For the record we completely agree with you, human. This High Priest guy has no business in this dimension. We have, in fact, been trying to track him down ourselves. We're special agents of the dimensional police. We've been tasked to take down this heathen.”
    “Yeah,” said Death, catching on to where Pain was going with this conversation. “He's like a greased weasel. A greasy, weaselly, uh...thing.”
    “We could use the help of a highly motivated individual,” said Pain. “This planet is a mess of people being charmed by the High Priest. We could really use someone willing to seek these people out and prevent them from being kidnapped. We have limited resources and have to focus on tracking down the High Priest himself. We just can't spend any time preventing these crimes ourselves. But maybe we can hire an operative to do that for us. There are some amazing benefits.”
    “Interesting,” said Victor, deep in thought. “But where do you stand on the issue of flickering streetlights?”
    “Well...” said Death. He didn't even try to finish his sentence, realizing he didn't have the capacity to properly address total nonsense. He thought it best to defer to Pain.
    “We can discuss that later,” said Pain. “Let's talk about what we need from you. And what we can do for your hard work and participation at bringing this scum bucket to justice.”
    * * *
    The deal went something like this:
    To Pain and Death's surprise, Victor wasn't particularly interested in immortality for his efforts, requesting to substitute a steady supply of Pez to him instead. He preferred a Spider-man dispenser but a Jughead one would do just as well.
    Victor's next request was that for every person he ritualistically prevented from being kidnapped to Kwork he wanted one hundred and twenty-five Kworkians destroyed. He thought this would be a good way to send a punitive message to the High Priest and inspire him to quit his evil ways or to give himself up to the proper authorities.
    Pain and Death explained that Victor wasn't to ever reveal his source of Pez to anyone under any circumstances. If he didn't maintain the strictest confidence about working for Pain and Death he would automatically expire. If the authorities of this world caught Victor while discharging his duties he would also automatically expire to prevent him from being taken into custody and handed over to Kworkian operatives working in this dimension.
    Along with his initial supply of Pez in his preferred dispenser, Victor received a cheap plastic badge that identified him as a deputy of the dimensional police and a pair of enchanted glasses that allowed him to see people who were in danger of being abducted or were agents from Kwork working in this dimension. The badge was actually a slightly torn beer label Pain had removed from a discarded bottle in a nearby alleyway and the glasses had