It was Sunday evening. Maybe in other, better cities people were waking up from the naps they took to sleep off Grandma's pot roast dinner after church. Maybe they were riding bikes under streetlights or swinging on suburban porch swings, counting fireflies.

But this was Fandom, and Fandom Sundays were a lot like any other day. Which meant the magic had to keep coming. Anders had an opening shift, which meant he had to sweep up the cigarette butts and wipe the sticky rings of dried hooch off the tables, and check to make sure all the props and sheet music were in order for the night. It was dumb, and dull, and more than a little gross, but it kept him on the owners' good sides and that was where he liked to be.

He fretted as he went through the routine of busywork. The kid, Elsa -- the chatter backstage was that she was up for a couple special jobs. She was way too young for anything like that, but Anders wasn't the type to stick his neck out, not when it would just give somebody like Angelface a perfect chance to slit his throat. Besides, Karla wasn't dumb. If anybody could going to keep Elsa pure, Karla could.

Once the club was in tip-top shape for the night, Anders went backstage to get into costume, chat with the girls, and wait for the show to begin.