"So, only three names, and one of them an accident?"

"Two. Two of them are accidents. Apparently that restaurant was named after a person."

"So, only one person you wanted to kill? Interesting."

"Please don't push me, Shigao. I'm still not comfortable with this."

"Is it still the number thing? Because you're clearly not very good at that."

The Death God pointed a dry, bony finger at the top-left corner of Joe's sudoku puzzle, which had been filled entirely with pictures of cats and the letter N over breakfast.

"Don't be silly, Shiggy. I know how long forty seconds is. I just hum the Jeopardy theme!"

To demonstrate, Joe began to whistle the Plinko theme from Price is Right.

"Well, you get the idea."

"Indeed I do."

A light tap on the door.

"Joe? Are you talking to yourself again?"

"Oh! Come on in, Hill-- I mean... Secretary Clinton," squeaked Joe, shooing Shigao away at the last second, as the Secretary of State, beautiful beyond her years, walked in, her hands clasped together behind her back.

"It's all right, Joe," she giggled flirtishly, "You can call me Hillary. You can call me whatever you want. Or... whenever you want."

"Even at 3 AM?"

Hillary recoiled a bit at the painful reminder of her unsuccessful campaign. Way to kill the mood, Joe.

"So yeah..." she continued awkwardly, "I just thought you should know that I'm going to Japan."

"You mean, like, permanently?"

"...No. Just a diplomatic trip."

"Oh."

"Is there anything you wanted me to tell Prime Minister Aso?"

"Tell him to send me one of those digeridoos. I've been thinking of taking up an instrument."

"That's Aus... never mind."

Hillary left shaking her head, though whether at Joe or at herself, she couldn't say.

"So, human... anyone else you want to kill?"

TO BE CONTINUED?!?