"Hello, welcome to Dark Lord Depot. How may I help you?"

"I'm calling to complain about the energy field you sent me. It malfunctioned."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir. What was your problem with the energy field?"

"It didn't give me ultimate power. It blew up my head."

"Consumable energy fields are supposed to do that, sir. If you consult the-"

"What the hell? Why didn't you warn me?"

"It's clearly stated in the Dark Lord's Manual you should have been-"

"What Dark Lord's Manual?!"

"That's what I'm trying to explain, sir. The Dark Lord's Manual you should have been given by the Emperors, Lords, and Villains Association of America. How long have you been a Dark Lord?"

"Why is that any of your business?"

"The Emperors, Villains, and Lords Association of America tend to regulate the production of consumable energy fields based on seniority. If you haven't been a Dark Lord very long, sir, then the EVLAA probably didn't give you permission to-"

"I don't need permission from the damn EVLAA! I am invincible! Invincible, I say! Mwahahaha! Mwahahaha! Mwahahahaha!"

"Actually, sir, you do. According to the Villains Statute of-"

"Put me through to your manager!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that, sir. The rules of Dark Lord Depot make it impossible for-"

"Put me through to your manager at once or I will smite you where you stand!"

"Are you ever going to let me finish a-"

"I'll sue you for this! You won't last a day after I'm done with you!"

"Sir-"

Click.

I hate my job.

I put down the phone, staring blankly at the beige wall in front of me, and propped my head up on my hand. Why the hell was I in Complaints & Public Relations? I didn't even like people. I especially disliked Dark Lords. They always threatened to sue. And then when you said "Oh yeah, you and what army?" they actually had an answer for you.

I had no idea who this last one was. It was the twenty-first century, after all. New Dark Lords were popping up all the time. It was a hell of a big break for Dark Lord Depot, of course, and a nice boost for the economy, but was it really worth it? I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of new Dark Lords who actually bother to read the EVLAA manual, let alone the Villains Statute of 1975 or the Lovecraft Act.

In my opinion, it's all the fault of the media. They're the ones who make Dark Lording seem like such a glamorous job. "Take over the universe! All you need is a bit of charisma and a scantily clad consort, and the world is yours!" And then people like me get stuck with the burden of explaining to the poor suckers that no, we cannot transport a thousand flesh-eating goblins to their castle by sunset. Why? Because their castle is on the other side of the world, and you can only fit about ten flesh-eating goblins on one plane, and it's a bit difficult to transport a hundred planes from Oakland, California to Madagascar by sunset when it's already 7:00 PM. No, sir, we cannot use transportational magic. Why not? Because only the good guys get to use the cool spells, which is clearly stated in friggin' huge red letters on the first page of the manual. If you'd like to lodge a complaint at Hero Depot, sir, the number is...

Rubbing my temples, I pushed back my chair and got to my feet, stretching my arms above my head. I turned around with a sigh and slipped through the door of my cubicle and out into the hall. I needed a coffee break.

Laura was in the break room, munching on a scone. I nodded at her, heading over to the coffee machine. "Hey, Laura."

"Rough customer?" she asked sympathetically.

I nodded. "This one thinks the EVLAA regulations don't apply to him. Got his head blown off by a consumable energy field twice the size of his head, I'll bet."

She rolled her eyes. "God, I'm glad I got a nice peaceful job in Marketing. Did you hear what happened to Janet?"

"No," I said slowly. "Do I want to?"

"Possibly," shrugged Laura. "Nick over in the Breeding Programme department was trying to make a snake that could talk and was the color of obsidian and had piercing red eyes that had the power to turn things into dust and had poison green venom that burned holes in things and also happened to be very good at chess. It was a custom job for the Evil Overlord of Moldavia. But he just couldn't get the black right, right? He kept veering between the color of deepest midnight and the shuddering darkness of the abyss. Obsidian just wouldn't happen. So he decided to dip the snake in this dye, and then it exploded. All over Janet, who had just walked in to tell Nick that the order was canceled."

I groaned. "Is she all right?"

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Laura said grimly. "The order wasn't canceled. Janet was just trying to lose Nick his job so that she can have it and get out of Accounting."

"She really hates that department, huh?" I whistled.

"Not just-"

"Diane!" gasped a voice from the door. I turned abruptly. It was Garrett, the intern, panting like a demon. (And believe me, I do know how demons pant. I used to work in the Breeding Programme department too.) "The manager! He wants to see you right now!"

"Keep your hair on," I said, plunking my cup of coffee down on the counter. "I'm coming."

Garrett led me back out into the hall, tugging me by the hand. "Come on, come on! He said you had to come immediately!"

"Garrett," I said, "I know when the manager wants me to come immediately, and when he wants me to take my time."

"He wants you to take your time, then?" asked Garrett, looking confused.

"No, he wants me to come immediately," I said. "So whatever he wants me for, it can't be good. I'll head up to his office slowly, thanks."