“Let me put it this way,” said the man behind the large oak desk. “Have you ever seen that Kirstie Alley movie, ‘Toothless’?”

“The Tooth Fairy film?” I said, rather unsure of where this conversation was heading. “Yeah.”

“Well, it’s sort of the same thing. Except, obviously, we don’t want you to be some mythical organ thief.”

“Do teeth really count as organs?”

“Don’t change the subject. We have an opening. It’s one of the biggies.”

Immediately, I was struck with panic. “You don’t want me to be Death, do you? I mean, the guy who brought me up here definitely needs to go, but…”

“No, no. We’re putting you in a sort-of more benevolent role. You’d be distributing Luck.”

“So I’d be a leprechaun?”

“No, you’d be a Luck Distribution Specialist. And not just Good Luck, either. All manner of Luck.”

“I don’t really think I’m qualified.”

He smiled. “You kidding? You’ve had more shitty luck than anyone else who’s come through my office. You’re a Goddamn natural. Now get outta my office and get to work.”

Shit.