After the end of the book, Bad Blintz isn't so bad. Maybe it's even the kind of place Maurice would like to retire (after a few more adventures...)

Beatiful watercolour illustration.

EXCUSE ME, he said, not impolitely. BUT YOU ARE HOLDING UP THE END OF THE UNIVERSE.

Taking on a job commissioned by an orangutan may seem to veer from Mal's (admittedly abysmal) usual standards, but when it comes down to it, gold is gold, right?

It's amazing how the world rarely gets less complicated.

There is a gap in the multiverse. It's mainly unremarked, and it's not very important, but then it serves its purpose. After all, the companions of great men and women must have somewhere to put their feet up as well, at the end of the day.

“Since we keep meeting like this, shouldn't we get to know each other?”

Jack woke up, but the conversation was only shortly interrupted as the nice lady from Torchwood killed him again.

I RARELY MEET PEOPLE MORE THAN ONCE.

“Well aren't I the lucky guy then?”

A bucket of water to the face and Jack was back in the land of the living. A bullet in the head and he was back with Death.

“Why do you keep turning up anyway? It's not like I stay dead.”

DUTY.

That was the last he saw of Death for a few days. But Jack rarely stayed out of trouble for long.

IT IS A NICE DAY. THERE IS LITTLE RAIN.

“What?”

I BELIEVE ACQUAINTANCES ARE SUPPOSED TO EXCHANGE PLEASANTRIES.

There’s been a big mistake here." Sam approximated the size of the mistake with two outstretched arms. "Like, massive mistake." He pointed at Dean. "He dropped his Zippo."

I'VE HEARD ABOUT THIS NEW FANGLED CONCEPT. IT'S CALLED JOB SHARING.