Slick wasn't happy. Well, actually he kind of was, but he was trying act like he was unhappy so that he could fit into his role of disgruntled janitor. Anyway, he was grumbling.

"What ELSE are they going to have me do? First its janitor, then 'Minister of Funk,' then mechanic/electrician/handyman, and now speechwriter! Jeez! Give me a break! And then Demonicuss has me shrieking. Hmph. I don't shriek. My voice is rugged, and manly."

Despite his grumbling, Slick was actually pretty happy that he was able to devote so much of his time to Jack's Cult. He did his duties to the best of his ability, and didn't really complain all that often. Right now, he was in Papergirl's kitchen, which had fallen into disarray now that she was too busy giving table dances to bake many cakes.

He had been quite busy today with everything going on. After Jack's attempted assassination, the lecture hall next to the chatroom was a mess from all the panicky posters mulling around and shady characters in the corners and rafters. And from the fictitious super-powered battle.

"This happens EVERYtime we try and do one of the stories," Slick said, continuing his grumbling.

He could still feel the occasional roar or feel the occasional crash from the battle downstairs. The lecture hall next to the chat room was still the scene of the aforementioned battle, but most everyone had emptied the room pretty quickly after it had started, leaving some of the more powerful members of Jack's Cult to contain the damage. Slick was included among those who tactfully retreated. Besides, he had a lot of work to do. Fortunately, PG's kitchen was the last place he had to clean before he could go home for the evening.

"And then it's right back here in the morning to clean up the rassim' frassim' lecture hall." Grumble grumble.

Slick was mopping up the last of the floor before Papergirl came into her kitchen carrying a stack of files underneath her arm.

"Howyadoin!" she called.

"Fine, thanks," Slick replied.

"No, I was looking for... forget it. Say Slick, are you the one who left that pile of garbage bags full of blue armbands in the hallway?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. I'll throw them out in a bit. I didn't want Golden Lion to see them, so I waited until Conn's Mod-Squad had taken him away. And then that whole super-battle started."

"Er, yeah. Nasty business, that. I hope it's over soon," PG said as she started across the kitchen. "Wow, this place looks great!"

"Thanks. Careful; it's slippery."

"Yeah, I can see that," Papergirl replied as she walked carefully across the wet tiled floor to a counter on the opposite wall. She unlocked the cabinet that she used to secure birthday cakes from Fenris and placed the files she was carrying on a shelf there.

"What's that?" Slick asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just my Confidential Secret Files," Papergirl said as she closed the cabinet and locked it.

She started back across the kitchen to leave. Just before she went out into the hallway she turned to Slick with a look of concern on her face.

"Slick, I can trust you to not snoop through my Confidential Secret Files while I go back and see what I can do downstairs, right?"

"Hm? Oh, sure. Yeah," Slick said as he devoted his attention to some funk that someone had tracked in.

"Okay," Papergirl said as she turned and left.

Slick waited until her footsteps had receded down the hall until he pulled out his ring of skeleton keys, opened the cabinet, and started to snoop through Papergirl's Confidential Secret Files.

"Hmm. Cake recipes, accounting information, nude pictures of Howyadoin' (ew!), PG's table-dancing schedule...." Slick paused to pocket that last bit of information before he continued on.

"Now this is interesting... Holy! What the... Obfuscation?!?! What were they doing? ...Loren's really a... Oh, man. PG, Jack, what have you two gotten yourselves into? I've got to tell somebody! But who? I can't tell Conn's Mod-Squad. They'd never understand. I should know; I'm one of them."

Slick put all but the last file back in the cabinet and locked it. Fortunately, PG kept a fax machine in the kitchen so she could receive daily market prices for sugar, eggs, flour, and the like. Jack's Cult recruited only the very best cake makers/table dancers.

Slick put the few pages from the file in the fax tray and quickly punched in a phone number. When it had gone through, he gathered the papers up and walked back over to the cabinet. Unfortunately, in his urgency, Slick didn't see a shady figure slip into the room behind him and whack him in the back of the head.

**WHACK!**

"Ow!" Slick yelled. "What the Hell are you doing?"

"Uh, I was trying to knock you out," replied the shady figure.

"Well you don't aim for the side of the head unless you're aiming for the temple, you nitwit!" Slick pointed to a spot in the back of his head. "You're supposed to aim for back here!"

"You mean like... THIS?"

**WHACK!**

"Hello? Slick? ... Cool!"

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