So I was running low on funds, you know, moolah, and my eternity bill was coming due, so I rented the lower planes to one of those Aztec gods, I forget whether it was Huitzilopochtli or Tlaloc, it was the rain god anyway, for a thousand dark souls a month. And wouldn't you know it but he stiffed me and left the place a mess to boot.

So I decided I'd paint his wagon real good, and I went down to Conquistadors 'R' Us, planning to buy a Cortez and send him back with some time roaches to smite old what's-his-face's temples, but the man said they were all out, the only available Cortez was in the shop and would I like some gumdrops instead? No, I wouldn't, you twit.

So then, hoping to drown my sorrows, I went down to the Lords of Entropy Institute of Cosmological Studies and Nightclub. Nasty Handful was playing, but you could still hear yourself think, because the Entropyneur had them only partially materialized for alleged "thermodynamic reasons". Mmm-hmm.

About halfway through the evening I met this guy, his name was Sissy-boy Johnson, he showed me a picture of a young-old man with a tiny dalmatian and centuries of evil in his eyes, and I id'ed him. "That's the Committee Man. He's bad stuff." He thanked me and bought my time roaches for a healthy sum. He asked me what I did, and I told him I was a maker of worlds, and he said there was going to be a big shakeout in that business pretty soon but he had some friends among the Elder Gods who might throw some business my way.