[The afterlife which me and the other Bells just went and remodeled. You want I should invite them to the giant party on Mars we're going to throw after some immediate tasks have been handled?]

[Oooooh. Yes!]

[Awesome. So what are they like?]

[You and Anna are more of a match than Sandy and Chainsaw from what little I've seen, but, you know, they're yous. Like me and Juliet and Shell Bell and so on are each other.]

[Uh-huh. So are they, you know...? Masochism parties?]

[They are professional masochism parties, except for the part where we fixed the place up and there is no longer a call for either of the operative professions.]

[I'll pass along the invitation to the party.]

[Count us in!] says Eights.

[They have,] says Stella when this is relayed back to her, [accepted the party invitation. We'll all assemble when everybody's finished with their more immediate tasks. We'll probably wind up waiting on Golden.]

[Why, what's Golden up to?] asks Anna.

[She knows a lot more dead people than anybody else, so she's collecting them out of queue order.]

[Gotcha.]

[If, by the way, you know any dead people, those can also be fetched out of queue order, but we are going to set up something systematic for larger numbers. I should probably call various Presidents and Prime Ministers of things.]

[Sounds very empressy,] laughs Anna.

[Yes. Have I mentioned lately that I really like being empressy?]

[Nooooooo,] says Anna. [I had no idea.]