"It's just not the same without trumpets," the Overlord grumbled. "Something about the brass. Gives it a nice undertone -- PUT THAT THING AWAY!" The Overlord shot a death glare at a minion that had clambered onto the walls, then lifted a vuvuzela to her lips. Sadly, the minion clambered back down.

"I miss my Netherworld," the book sighed, then looked back down at the guy standing outside. "New out of the pods?"