London, Bayswater, Lancaster Gate 36.
Arthur sat at home, two machines beside him, one a wire recorder currently playing back a recording, the other, a gramophone for engraving records.
The Red Devil stood behind Arthur, its snow-white fangs stained with crimson flesh coming close to his ear as it gently licked its tongue, nearly dripping saliva onto Arthur's gleaming epaulettes.
"Arthur, what are you worried about? Wouldn't it be better to take this recording directly to Parliament? Why do you need so many backups with the gramophone? You should know that with this recording, the Whig Party can completely defeat the Tory Party in public opinion. As their effective assistant, you are bound to be rewarded. Having climbed to this position, don't you want to reach even higher and see the most captivating views?"