“I wield the Handschu Agreement,” Esmerelda says, scroll upheld. “We will approach the bench!”

Starr shreds it with a wave of his hand. “And if I dissent, little law-mage?”

“Cox v. Louisiana!” she shouts, and feels herself surrounded by calm blue shades: an army of the peaceful. “It takes more than you to hold us back!”

“That’s what you think,” sniggers Starr, as fire licks his palm. “Abrams v. United States!”

The shades shred to pieces, then burn to ash. Esmerelda winces behind her hastily summoned Holmes’ Dissent, watching cracks spread over its luminous surface, trying to endure the flames.

Kaci’s so excited to finally be getting a dad that she’s playing bungee with Eugenia’s arm, straining at it to peer curiously between the bars, squealing and yanking herself back every time one jumps up.

“Don’t startle them, sweetie,” Eugenia groans.

“I want all of them!” Kaci declares. A salt-and-pepper dad sniffs at her hand.

“Well, I’m sorry, you can’t. And we have to be careful about which one we pick.”

“Why?”

“Some of them have been abused,” says Eugenia sadly.

One of the dads scratches furiously at his ear, then looks startled to have found something in it.

Don brings the awesome to the party, even though it’s a couple weeks old now and fairly unappetizing.

“You were supposed to bring a side dish,” says Sue, unhappily.

“It’s a side dish… of awesome,” Don grins.

“I don’t think it should be that color,” Sue says.

“Hey, is that awesome?” says Nikolay. “Let me try some!” He does, and then has to go throw up.

“There may be a disconnect here,” observes Sue, “between signifier and signified.”

“Oh, I didn’t know Ferdinand de Saussure was invited to this party,” sneers Don.

“I’m right here,” says Saussure.

It’s an awesome party!

The receptionist fell quickly to Crucible’s hammer, and they beat back building security, but the enchanted cold of the server room made them easy prey for sysadmins: they lost Elfstar to a razored backup disc. Black Dougal’s eyes were cold with vengeance when they burned HR to the beams.

Now they stand in another reception room, eerily recalling the start of their adventure, but glass-walled and empty. Beyond waits the chief execulich officer. Crucible hefts what they hope is his phylactery and offers one last prayer to Machina.

Behind them descend the chicks from Sales, blueteeth glinting in the shadows.