Cecil was sat in his broadcast chair, Khoshekh in his lap, pulling himself around the studio. There was a new brand on his chest, just above his heart, reading 'property of NVCR'.

There was the howl of a spider-wolf, and a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Cecil called anxiously.

"The man who's going to make your dreams come true!" Chirped the person at the door, "I'm Kevin!"

Ah, the guy Steve called.

Cecil rolled himself to the door and flung it wide. Oh dear…

The man at the door, Kevin, was like him! Three eyes, swirling markings; but rather than an almost-white blonde, his hair was as black as pitch, his clothes covered in blood, and his smile was cut deep into his cheeks. "Oh my…" Kevin chuckled, "Isn't this just jazzy!"

"H-hello, Mr… Kevin," Cecil greeted.

"Look at you," The bloody man cooed, pushing into the building and too furry… things following after, "I heard you wanted me to work my magic! I don't get many calls outside of Desert Bluffs!"

Cecil laughed nervously, "Uh, yeah, about that –"

"Oh, don't be nervous," Kevin assured, "You don't have anything to worry about! I even know how to fix your little problem! The only way to get what you want is to become a human yourself.

"Can you do that?" Cecil asked.

"My dear, sweet double. That's what I do. It's what I live for. To help unfortunate creatures like yourself. Poor souls with no one else to turn to," Kevin exclaimed, "I admit that in the past I've been a nasty; they weren't kidding when they called me, well, a witch. But you'll find that nowadays, I've mended all my ways. Repented, seen the light, and made a switch to Strex. And I fortunately know a little magic, it's a talent that I always have possessed; and here lately, please don't laugh, I use it on behalf of the miserable, lonely, and depressed…"

"Pathetic," Kevin mumbled to himself, before brightening, "Poor unfortunate souls; in pain, in need."

Kevin conjured a vision of two men, one a little on the large side and the other scrawny, "This one longing to be thinner, that one wants to get the girl; and do I help them? Yes, indeed."

Kevin snapped his fingers and the scrawny man became buff and muscular, while the other was a slim… woman. They embraced each other as Kevin sang on. "Those poor unfortunate souls – so sad, so true. They come flocking to my cauldron – crying, 'Spells, Kevin, please!' – And I help them! Yes I do."

Kevin sobered, "Now it's happened once or twice… Someone couldn't pay the price and I'm afraid I had to rake them across the coals…" He made his hand into a fist and the two people in the vision withered into limp plants. "Yes I've had the odd complaint, but on the whole I've been a saint to those poor unfortunate souls!"

"Have we got a deal?" Kevin asked, pulling an arm around Cecil's shoulders.

"If I become human, I'll never be able to broadcast again..." Cecil pondered.

"But you'll have your man," Kevin winked, "Life's full of tough choices, isn't it? Oh, and there is one more thing. We haven't discussed the subject of payment."

"But I don't have –"

"I'm not asking much," Kevin interrupted, "Just a token really, a trifle! What I want from you is… your voice."

Cecil gasped, "But without my voice, how can I –"

"You'll have your looks," Kevin enthused, "Your pretty face! And don't underestimate the importance of body language, ha! The men up there don't like a lot of blabber; they think a boy who gossips is a bore! Yes on land it's much preferred for ladies not to say a word, and after all, dear, what is idle prattle for? Come on, they're not all that impressed with conversation! True gentlemen avoid it when they can. But they dote and swoon and fawn on a guy who's withdrawn. It's he who holds his tongue who gets a man!"

"Come on you poor unfortunate soul! Go ahead! Make your choice!" Kevin demanded, "I'm a very busy man and I haven't got all day! It won't cost much; just your voice! You poor unfortunate soul! It's sad but true."

Kevin fabricated a scroll with Cecil's contract, and a pen, both floating in mid-air. "If you want to cross the bridge, my sweet; you've got the pay the toll. Take a gulp and take a breath and go ahead and sign the scroll!"

"Sandy, Cactus, now I've got him, boys," Kevin muttered aside to his pets, "The boss is on a roll! This poor unfortunate soul!"

Cecil took the pen and scribbled his signature on the line. "There," he nodded curtly.

Kevin smiled even wider, "Oh how lovely! Now… Your voice." Kevin opened Cecil's mouth gently.

"Is this going to hurt?" Cecil mumbled, his mouth full with Kevin's fingers.

"My dear double," Kevin smiled, "I'll make sure of it."

The fingers elongated, turning into sharp talons and stretching down, and down, and down into his throat; tearing his voice from him in a gruesome display of gore and blood.

His voice was shining in Kevin's hands.

"How pretty," Kevin cooed, slipping it into a glass trap at the end of a delicate silver chain, "And now, your freedom."

A small sandstorm engulfed Cecil; the radio host croaking and coughing, trying to call out. Blood was running down the side of his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his forehead and his ears. It… It hurt.

It all went black.

The sand died down, and Kevin gazed at his double. "Very pretty," he chuckled, scooping Cecil up in his arms, "I should find a bow! You'd look so nice, all tied up in ribbons for your dear scientist. Oh well, you'll have to do as you are! Don't want to keep true love waiting…"