Demon who is sick and tired of their rival hogging all the glory. It's time for a change in tactics that no one will expect.
The four senior Lust supervisors, each on the rota together for a month straight with no days off—
("Well, I'm down Mawgull. Take up any complaints with Inhuman Resources," Jamdaggu said cheerfully. "Be prepared to explain that all four of you have a completely identical alibi for the exact moment a big fuck-off juggernaut demon smashed through my office, they'll love that."
("You sneaky bastard," Pamnaxxu said, in the dejectedly betrayed tones of someone who'd believed that, finally, there was someone in the office they could outwit.)
—are taking a long lunch break in the plein air remnants of Jamdaggu's office, throwing paper planes out of the jagged hole in the side of the building.
"Cocciflax is after my job," Pamnaxxu says darkly, taking aim at a seagull.
"Cocciflax isn't after your fucking job, Pam," Jurhazo snorts.
"She is. She's keen. She keeps coming in early and staying late and doing all her paperwork without me even asking or throwing anything or crying at all."
"Pam, I've told you to come to me for backup if Quivillek slacks off," Vozdrammar says. "Honey—"
"It's my department," Pamnaxxu says, horns smoking.
"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Vozdrammar gingerly pats her shoulder. "I didn't mean anything, Pam, you know I didn't, I just don't like Quiv thinking she can bully you."
"I'm not worried about Quivillek," Pamnaxxu says contemptuously. "She doesn't want to steal my job."
"Cocciflax isn't after your job, Pam—" Jurhazo says, rolling her eyes.
"Go in the employee records portal and change her display name to FlaccidCocks!" Lorgrax says.
"I don't want to be MEAN to her," Pamnaxxu says. "She's just not having my JOB."
("Funny story," Jurhazo says to Vozdrammar, "while nobody's listening to me, like — Cocciflax goes to all the ornithology club pub quiz nights, has a half of shandy, and leans on the nearest shoulder wailing that she just wants her boss to call her a good girl, just once—"
("Thankless being the voice of reason to this lot, isn't it," Vozdrammar says pointedly, steepling her fingers.)
"Well, I can scheme too," Pamnaxxu is saying darkly to Lorgrax, who's trying to correct for the crosswind and hit one of the construction juggernauts on the ground in the head. "She'll never see that coming—"
"What, you being clever?" Jurhazo tells her. "Too fucking right, nobody would."
Pamnaxxu gives a long, narrow stare. "Valquazzit," she says finally, in a threatening way. "You start with me and I'mma send her Valentine cards."
"It's the wrong fucking time of year," Jurhazo spits.
"Yeah, so she'll know it's me, won't she? Poor stupid Pam." Pamnaxxu arches an eyebrow, sharp enough to murder. "Reckon I can get three dates and a hot fuck out of pure pity."
"Pity's right—"
"—And then as much more as I want out of being just that fucking good, Jurhazo," Pamnaxxu says, razor-stropped and cold. "So if you want your girl, maybe think less about how stupid I am and ask what you're doing to get her."
"Maybe let's not start shit we don't want to finish," Vozdrammar says.
"Yeah, you fucking tell her—"
"I'm telling you, Zo."
Jurhazo takes a deep, growling breath, and stalks for the door, simply barreling into the DO NOT CROSS tape and leaving it shredded as she disappears into the offices. After only a few seconds, she's back, looming in the doorway.
"You put a finger on her and I'll take a sledgehammer to every bone in your fingering hand, Pam," she warns.
Vozdrammar slams a palm over Pamnaxxu's mouth. "Lunchtime's over!" she announces, then, "stop tongueing my hand, Pam."
"S'got no bones in it," Pamnaxxu says, smugly muffled.