. . . Huh. This isn't the Woodland building.

What the hell? Who the fuck brought me to New York? I don't need to be in New York right now, I need to be in Anchorage. We're on the brink of a goddamn Apocalypse. Don't even ask if I'm joking. I'm not. I'm talking four horsemen, releasing Satan not that I believe in him in those terms or Apep or whatever you believe. I think Asmundr was talking about wolves swallowing the sun and moon or something. Vigdis didn't give an opinion, but considering she's fucking mute, we weren't exactly expecting anything. Mary Alice is a goddamn Lucifuge, so I'm not even asking her opinion, and Vic is a fucking moron and I sincerely doubt he believes in anything. I'm worried, because nobody's answering their mobiles or the phone at headquarters, and even if Jocelyn is still hiding from the taskforce, Jake or Gabriella should have answered. Or even that fuckup, Derek. Can't even reach Aharon. But he's probably high as a fucking kite, so that's not really anything new.

But all that's beside the point. Someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on!

Thanksgiving.

A time of peace and prosperity amongst the people of the United States of America. A time when our families can gather around the table to celebrate the kleptomanical tendencies of our petty ancestors.

Whilst you all enjoy your home-cooked meals and ten-pound weight gain, I believe I'll be turning in early. Festivities bore me. More specifically those shared with one's family circle.

Look at all the new faces.

Is the world ending, again? You know, I forgot to mark this apocalypse on the calendar.

Oh. You're telling me the world isn't ending, and we've only had a small cataclysm? Man, mortals like their dramatics.

So much washing, so much stained in blood from a battle they did not know they were fighting.

Does somebody care to tell me what the hell just happened?

You know, dying this early in the morning has never exactly been one of my favorite past times.

While I like the lush apartment and all the stuff that goes with it I was used to my basement with my self installed carpet and my icebox I actually had to power with ice. The fact I can use a computer is freaking me out and I still can't get used to all this. Technology before the 1950s usually fritzes and explodes on me.

I know I am in some sort of alternate reality because Murphy always answers her phone or picks it up at least to yell at me. That and...there are gods and people from Oz and all sorts of other random things that shouldn't be in the natural world. I could figure it out better if I had Bob. I can't even get in contact with Thomas or Ebenezer.

I really don't want to start my business from scratch. It is hard to become credible when you put yourself in the phone book under Wizard.

Who's up for breaking the fourth wall?

And just what foul trickery is this?

Well, isn't this interesting.

.

I think I'm supposed to be trying to blend in. Where's the fun in that?

Let me tell ya, after being stuck in a cramped space for so long, blending in is the last thing on my mind. For fuck's sake, I want to actually have some fun. Oh, were you expecting something more stereotypically archaic for an oath? I'll be glad to deliver, just for laughs.

By Odin's BEARD!

There, you feeling better? Trust me, it won't last.

And using the internet to communicate? That's really cute. I invented the internet, I'll have you know. I thought it was brilliant at the time.

Once upon a time, there were these... kids. These kids named Billy and Amanda.

Now, y'see, Billy and Amanda were hungry. Nobody fed 'em, nobody paid 'em any attention- and it was all very, very tear-jerking. So, one day, this... magical clown came to town to turn Billy and Amanda's frowns into buckets of little smiles and happy rainbows. The magical clown invited 'em to play a game.

This clown- he really liked to play these games, and Billy and Amanda loved the idea SO much, they decided that they'd give in and follow the magical clown and play the game he'd made especially for them. Because these kids? They were special little angels. The kind that needed their cream cheese served on clouds and their halos polished by sparkling cherubs.

But Billy and Amanda didn't realize that the magical clown had led them into rush hour!

That was the end of little curly-topped Billy and pigtailed Amanda. Oh, but there's a moral, kiddies, a good moral with magical twists and turns. And whoever can figure it out'll get a special prize.

One that doesn't involve headlights and blood so thick ya can't wash it out of your suit. And you can trust me- I'm a man of my word.