It was a dull day, I wasn’t doing very much. In theory I was working from home, but that theory wasn’t working and neither was I. I tried looking out of the window but the sky was a smudged grey, like yesterday’s make-up, and it didn’t compel me out of doors or into better thoughts. I looked again at my work, but it could all wait a few more minutes. I didn’t know what to write. I was waiting for inspiration, and starting to feel stood up. The phone was silent. The clock ticked. A man came through the door with a gun in his hand.

They shot the Messenger, Tabitha said, and he wasn’t expected to survive.

“What was he even doing there?” Brad asked. “Breaking up a robbery, a drug deal? That doesn’t sound like him. Last I heard, he was stranded at the Cosmic Gates, lost in the Mists of Time, thinking deep thoughts about truth and justice or something like that.”

“Turns out he was in Poughkeepsie.”

It turned out, much to the shock of the gathered League, that the Messenger had been a fraud.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Armstrong, you’re having twins.”

“Twins?”

“That’s right. Now if I could see you in about ten weeks?”

“What do you mean ‘twins’?”

“I mean two babies. We don’t know whether they’re fraternal or identical yet, but…”

“That’s wonderful, Margie!”

“Be quiet, Harold. I don’t see what’s so wonderful about twins. You see, Dr. Myers, I wanted multiples.”

Blurch the Earthworm spat out a mouthful of putrid soil. Although he badly wanted to scowl, he lacked the musculoskeletal qualities to do so.

Brittney went upstairs to ask her husband a question. She found him sitting on their bed and watching a football game on television. “Honey, how would you like to go to a movie tonight?”

“You know I don’t go to theaters!” Abraham Lincoln yelled.