Burtininkas didn’t look up from his work as Wednesday walked into the room.

“Oh, Wednesday, terribly glad you came. It’s interesting, today at my lunch hour, there was a rather strange occurence.”

“Oh? And what was that?”

“Well, you see, I went to the dumbwaiter to get my lunch, but the corned beef and mustard sandwich that I ordered wasn’t there.”

“No?” Wednesday asked, eyebrows raised.

“No, instead, there was a gentleman by the name of Milton Milds trussed up like a Christmas ham and stuffed into the box. It rather ruined my appetite.”

“Oh, the poor man!” said Wednesday, trying and failing to conceal a guffaw. “Where is he now?”

“I’m afraid the stagehands are still attempting to pry him out. A dumbwaiter’s meant to carry food, you see, not people.”

Wednesday laughed. “Oh, Burt. You are such the comedian.”

Burt cleared his throat. “He said he was applying for assistant?”

Wednesday acted surprised. “Oh, well then, maybe we should try him in one of our shows.”