The paperwork was indeed abysmal. There was, of course, a special section of Hell devoted to creating redundant and essentially superfluous documents that were the never blowing wind in the windmills of progress. Three knew some poor devils who worked there and he did not envy them their job. He had never thought, though, that he would ever end up caught up in paragraphs and small print like he was when he had finished a first glance at everything. He sat at a wobbly table in Angel’s living room, listening with one ear to the sounds from the kitchen. Angel had holed up in there a few hours ago under the pretext of “whipping up some dinner”. Whatever he was doing in there, though, seemed to mostly have to do with banging things around. Various noises came to Three’s attention now, particula
