You've been working for The Bureau for about five years now.  At least,
you think you have.

Whatever it was, someone showed up at a time in your life when things
were not going well, and they asked you to make a deal.  They said they
were "from The Bureau" and they showed you an official-looking ID.  At
that point, three thousand dollars a month for doing nothing seemed like
a lifeline sent down from heaven, so you took the deal.  The only
condition was that Francis Columbus, Jess Bowyer, William Muldoon, and
Diana Skiljen should never live more than ten miles apart from one
another.

And so far, they've been true to their word.  Three grand shows up in
your bank account the first of every month.  Occasionally you get emails
or texts or phone calls that ask you to do certain things.  Sometimes
they're nonsensical things.  But if you do them, you get paid more at
the beginning of the next month.  Sometimes *much* more.  Some examples
of those things: go to a particular Burger King at exactly 2:14 PM on
July 22, and order a Whopper with cheese and a Diet Coke with no ice.
Follow the car with license plate Nevada 326 NEB, learn where it parks
at night, and upload the address to a particular web site.  Buy six
goldfish at Aquarium World on Elm, and return them to Petco in Maxwell
Plaza.

For the last couple months, they've been a pair of novelty acts at a
shitty casino in the ass-end of nowhere.  Specifically, they perform
Monday-Thursday shows at Bucky's Casino in Prescott, AZ.

Francis and Jess go on first.  It's a pretty decent magic act, but with a
magnificent and horrifying twist.  The trick here is that Jess is
actually a double hip amputee, with ridiculously advanced robotic legs
provided by The Bureau.  The sawing is all real, but Francis is careful
to cut at the right place.  The blood is just colored corn syrup, and
where Francis cuts is just a latex skin over the joint; she just
detaches her legs and moves them down a couple inches so he doesn't
damage them when he cuts.

William and Diane play Elvis and Marilyn in an act where the
impersonation and music is lame, the contortionism is pretty impressive,
and the knife throwing and sharpshooting is spectacular.

And an email has just come in: "The Bruce Utsler Circus is coming to
town.  See if they need a variety act, but whether they do or not, try
to get proof that the ringmaster is dealing drugs.  If you get
incriminating evidence, upload it to a website we will specify, along
with account details, in a separate email."