same thing can be said for Mrs. Van der Zee’s hat.

I look up across the valley at the man on his chair with his wine and I think I can see Ottavio Leopold Calvanese applauding in the empty night.

One less person in the world who wants to kill us, I guess that’s good.

A moment later we hear the noise of the impact and that’s all we hear for a while because it is very loud.

“I’ve done my job Doc.”

Doctor Client I guess.

Now it’s done.

Sorry Rex.

Sorry Volodya.

Sorry Evil Hansel because I put you somewhere you likely never wanted to be.

Sorry Marta I’m sure you were a good dog.

Sorry but I am not Banjo Telemark.

My name is Jack Price and I am the First of the Demons.

This is my art.

EPILOGUE

THE VAULT WAS REALLY WELL MADE I GUESS so most of the stuff in it was A-OK. We used one of the little bulldozers to load it up onto a freight container and Doc was all ready with the truck but Mozart landed her butt-ugly plane on the road right there with its vertical doohickey and we just loaded that up instead.

It’s true that the Swiss Air Force doesn’t fly at night.

The Italian one does, though, and they got the call to come fuck our shit up.

But by some chance that no one’s really got to the bottom of, they were given the wrong coordinates by the dispatching officer, who definitely does not work even occasionally for Ottavio Leopold Calvanese that is slander.

So we just flew away and we left Fred’s horrible enormous porno jet right there in the hangar and sold it later to a movie star.

I hear he was real freaked-out about the guy in the crate, we completely forgot about Sean, there was just so much going on but when you keep pets you have responsibilities, and that is my bad.

Agent Hannah got kicked out of Einsatzgruppe JONAS and she left the Swiss police.

I don’t feel like that is entirely my bad but I am reasonably sure she does, so I think it is best if I don’t call her.

We had a memorial for Rex and Volodya. We sang songs and ate ham. Doc did a genetic assay on it first and she promises there was absolutely no human content at all.

Elena Riccardi figured out what happened and she and her husband went on a cruise. She also left a very rude message on our answering service that is just uncalled for but I guess she has cause.

I asked Barton if he would like to be Banjo Telemark and he said yes. So now there really is a mega-rich insane modern artist running around the world doing fucked-up shit to people to remind them that nothing is real. I didn’t want the job but I’m glad someone has it.

We have a subscription purchase of cigars from the little guy in Bern. One a week delivered to a standing address. I don’t know why and nor does he and that is as it should be.

Life goes on.

Life does indeed go on but even so Doc was extremely pissed with me about the whole thing and she absolutely did punish me for it.

For weeks.

Which I do not remember at all.

And then when she was through with that I was not dead although now I have a tattoo of my own skeleton in black-light ink on my skin to remind me what will happen if I do it again.

But then we had a kind of a problem because now there were too many Demons.

Doc

Charlie

Saul

Lucille

Mozart

Flavia

Me

And a head on a stick.

I mean the Eight Demons that is nowhere. And Evil Hansel is kind of an intern or some shit and you cannot—Eight Demons And The Kid—I mean no.

And in fact I kind of fucked up our business model because between Sharkey and Eiger and Leclerc and blowing up a mountain, there is some doubt about whether anyone will ever hire us again. I mean it’s not like we need the money or like anyone is gonna think we’re a soft target after this. But still that is my bad.

And it is also fine because when you get hired you have to do deals with guys like Leclerc and really honestly: fuck those guys.

Headline: OUTRAGE AT KIRCHEISEN

Criminal gangs target world’s most secure bank…many casualties…Most Wanted…

“Seven Demons” believed to have been working with neo-Nazis and Italian Mob…

Respected community members flattened in explosion horror…

Dog survives owner—inherits fortune.

“Wait Charlie read that last bit again? You’re fucking kidding me GO MARTA! Well now I totally feel like less of a monster I mean that’s practically philanthropy.”

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