It is raining down as if the heavens themselves were pissing forth after a weekend-long beer binge.  The gutters are well past overflowing, leaving some of the lower streets to turn into tiny, shallow canals.  Along with the rain has come a constant damp that seeps into everything and makes the early morning world feel a little chillier.  Such being the state of the Ministry of Thunder, most of the spare pots and pans that could be found are now in use, catching the steady drip-drip-dripping from the many leaks in their roof...and this alone might explain the heavy, ominous feeling in the office, which is usual whenever the Duke is in a bad mood.<br/><br/>Ah, but from long experience, you all know that your boss's tense, terse, angry mood comes from something less immediately obvious.  And no, it isn't Monkey.  She's out on another job on the far end of the world, taking a personal day to resolve something on her father's behalf...or at least that's what she said.  No, the Duke is fit to be tied because this is the third straight week of<em>nothing</em>going down.  Not even a demonic purse snatching.  And that, in the Duke's eyes, is the worst sort of news there is, because it's never a case of nothing happening.<br/><br/>At the moment, you are the only agents in the office, except for a cheerful little intern from another pantheon who is doing her level best to cope with a typewriter and a file of index cards instead of the advanced computer system she claims to prefer.