Okay, I need you to be completely honest with this next question.  Why did you leave your last job?

Maggie, it's all right.  You're not in trouble. Believe it or not, we've dealt with worse situations around here.  We've all got something we're dealing with here, and sometimes things get rough. We just have to push through and try our best. Fernod is one quarter devil, I've been fruitlessly trying to get him to stop making deals with customers.

(narrating) As the young werewolf's tears dampened my favorite suede jacket, I caught my mind drifting to a time when I was her age and in a way not much unlike her. Resisting the urge to dwell and dawdle, I sent Maggie back to Emperor Pigs and set about cleaning up the crime scene. As I had told Peter, it was Rove's third bite day all over again. The mix of saliva and blood smelled just as putrid, the giblets and bone shards were just as irritatingly elusive, and the fur once again insisted on floating into my nostrils. The police showed up. I had to try to explain the blood stains on the asphalt, and I ended up paying them off to look the other way. Typical human cops.