The Rug Disruption

“Hi, honey! I'm building the wall, just like you asked!”

“Good. About time.”

“How was your day?”

“Lousy. Are you going to finish it tonight?”

“Well, maybe.”

“Then keep working.”

“All righty. Honey, I've been thinking. When we got married I was prepared to really make this relationship work. And it has worked, these past three years have been great and all, and we've made a lot of progress on the rough spots, and your mood swings are a lot better, your conspiracy theories are much more plausible, and you really might be onto something with the shielding of energy waves in the living room, but... I miss the old days. I miss the team. I feel like I'm letting my training and abilities go to waste. I feel like, if I have the power to fight tyranny and injustice, shouldn't I be doing so? So I thought... Honey? Honey? Oh, she went into the kitchen. That's all right. I'll tell her later. Unless... No. I have to tell her. I can't just pack up my things in the middle of the night and leave this insane...”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!”

Eschatological Episode, Dissimulation Mode, Conjugal Subdivision

“Yes. Mission complete.”

“...”

“Phase? I thought we got rid of phases. Nobody mentions them anymore.”

“...”

“So sending one of the oligarchs into null-space exile was the mission that completed the phase?”

“...”

“And we're in the next phase now? What is it?”

“...”

“Well that seems dumb.”

“...”

“No, you're right, we've been through dumb before.”

“...”

“All right. I'll clean up here. See you in a few hours. Oh, when you get home, could you put the chicken in the fridge to thaw? Thanks, hon, love you.”

Combo

“Doc, are you going to kill me?”

“Whaaat? No.”

“But I can't seem to move, and these animals aren't moving, and you gave me those pills when I came in here, so it looks like you've drugged us all? And I see some knives on your desk.”

“Let me ask you a question – out of the living things in this room, if you had to choose one to die, which would you choose?”

“Uhh...”

“And it can't be me.”

“Wha...”

“And you have to eat it. It dies, it gets cooked up, then you eat it.”

“Only one of them?”

Cooking Intelligence Agency

“That's him. Just walked in.”

“Alone?”

“Looks like.”

“So somebody's late. Going to be a long night.”

“Could be worse. We could be stuck in a ridiculous restaurant.”

“Oh my god, can we find the owner and shoot him?”

“Bring out everybody involved in this place, line them up, pop pop pop.”

“Or slam their heads in these ovens.”

“Start a big grease fire, lock the doors. No, but seriously, violence never solves anything. Ooh, frittatas!”

Cthulhauto

“That's right, I made this. I'm a necromancer.”

“Hm. Okay.”

“Now I know what you're thinking – doesn't necromancy have to do with the dead? Well, it does and it doesn't. Let's just say, if you want to fuse body parts onto metal, necromancy is the best way to go.”

“All right. I'm just thinking, this doesn't seem very practical.”

“Oh, it's not practical at all. No, this is a terrible car. But that's not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“You see, this isn't a car showroom. We don't even sell cars. This is a showroom for our talents. Ed over there? He captures and utilizes elementals. Linda binds tree spirits. Bob is in touch with the Old Ones. We have a variety of disciplines that you can hire. It all depends on what you want.”

“We... well, we want a car.”

“Do you? Do you really? Those who seek cars do not end up here.”

“Uhh, well, this is going to sound weird, but, uh, we've been having visitations...”

“Now we're talking! Why don't you have a seat over here, I'll start you out on some forms, and I just have to talk to my boss, who resides beyond the earthly plane, so there's a fresh pot of coffee right here, and I'll be back in an unholy amount of time, okay? Great!”