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“Thanks so much for being here,” they collectively cheered. “So you’re the new manager,” they smiled warmly. They knew that Garth was coming and recognised him straight away from his picture, all immediately coming towards him and shaking his hand warmly in welcome. All twenty guys were looking fit and lean, with not an ugly one in the bunch. The football team were hard at training when Garth arrived, paired up across the field trying to help each other beat their personal bests. Was there no real cunning or originality left in the underworld anymore? Garth put his thumbs up and walked away, shaking off Frink’s appalling idea. “That’ll break up the team in no time,” he nodded, speaking as the voice of experience. “Get them all sleeping with each other’s girlfriends!” he blasted. Garth nodded, already anticipating the crap idea that was about to fall out of Frink’s mouth. “Your specialty is lust, isn’t it?” Frink asked, his face lighting up as if he had just had a massive brain wave. “Management thinks they’re a bit too virtuous swanning about as good role models and the bosses need someone to sort that out.” “I’m being sent to some football team in Detroit,” he explained. Garth smiled, nodding, then turned and rolled his eyes. “They’re studying for hours and hours and still failing college!” he laughed. “I’m in the middle of job in Phoenix at the moment, messing with some sorority chicks,” he cackled proudly. “Do you have your first assignment?” Frink asked with interest. Now, here he was, all trained up and ready to be unleashed to make mayhem upon the world of humans. He had been training for years, shadowing sorry excuses for demons. “So, your first solo gig?” Frink asked, giving Garth a friendly jibe in the ribs and smiling deviously.