Mr Lambkin was not sure he was going to like what he saw when he entered the house at Hazel Down Green. He made a mental note to refuse jobs forged on simple telephone interviews with strange characters who called themselves the Master. It was not conducive to a long and healthy life. He had wanted all his life to belong, to be a functioning member of society. But every change took him further away, made him less human. If one body tired him, he could take another and another. As he lifted the latch at the gate of the house at Hazel Down Green, he made a mental note of all the possessions he had accumulated and only one remained – a cheap Saiko watch he had bought in a market stall when he had been short on time. Despite all the stress he put it through it remained his only constant companion.The walk down the garden was a nerve-racking moment. He would finally get to meet his paymaster, his boss. The mind behind the gargantuan conspiracy that intertwined the men in beards, President George Bush, the controversial experiments at Portland Down, the Animal Liberation Front, and a plan for world domination based on inducing the end of the world before its time. He was waiting to be disappointed. He did not expect a mouse. The mouse appeared from the corner of the room as he stepped into the hallway, and it looked as though it was about to bite him when he stamped on it with the full force of his boot, causing it to emit a devilishly almost-human squeal. It carried on screaming until he forced his boot hard one final time splattering its brains across the floor, and leaving tiny blotches of blood on his trousers. Otherwise the room was empty. There was a dead fat man in the living room, but there was little else of any note. Mr Lambkin visited the bathroom, so he could wipe the gore that had accumulated all over this trousers, ready for the arrival of his boss.