Toasty Marsh O' Mallow

Renfield R. Renfield the shapeshifting hamster chief of security for Set Enterprises, London, England was sitting in an office in a film studio in North Hollywood.

Across from him was sitting a very red nosed gentleman.

"So," Renfield began, "you're Toasty Marsh O' Mallow the famous Irish arsonist?".

"That's right," O' Mallow beamed at him through a glass of Guinness which seeing as how it was a dark ale, Renfield could not see the Irishman smiling at him, "I just got released from Dublin Prison last week."

"I understand you've set fire to a large number of farm fields in your time," Renfield said as he carefully examined the Irish arsonist's resume.

"That's right, when I was younger my psychiatrist told me I suffered from agoraphobia which is fear of agriculture," the arsonist explained, "so as a result of those therapy sessions, I started setting fire to farm fields."

"Actually," Amadeus Emanon spoke up as he entered the office, "agoraphobia is Greek for fear of the marketplace."

"I do hate shopping malls," O' Mallow admitted, "wow those psychoanalysis sessions were a total waste of time. My psychiatrist didn't even know Greek."

"Most of them don't know much else either," Renfield was getting impatient, "but despite your misdiagnosis, you have had experience setting fire to farmers' fields."

"That I most definitely have," the Irishman hiccoughed.

"Good," Renfield handed the man a photo, "I want you to set fire to this man's face."

"Wow," O' Mallow took a good look at the photograph, "Do I drink too much? Or does this man's face look like a farmer's field?".

"The answer is yes to both of your questions," Renfield replied.

"Who is he?" the Irish arsonist asked.

"He's Doctor Johann Georg Faust," Renfield answered.

"Wow, the guy who was supposed to have sold his soul to the Devil back in the early 16th Century," O' Mallow whistled.

"That's right," Renfield nodded.

"Gee, my mother-in-law promised me immortality if I didn't marry her daughter," O' Mallow shook his head, "I guess she was right. I wonder which one of my mother-in-law's daughters Faust turned down in order to accept her offer."

"I have no idea," Renfield started drumming his fingers on the desk.

"Why does his face look like a farmer's field?" O' Mallow asked.

"An early 16th century experiment in genetically modified foods gone horribly wrong," was Renfield's answer.

"Why do you want me to set fire to him?" O' Mallow asked.

"He was the fellow who developed the H1N1 swine flu virus which devastated the Alberta hog industry and lead to a huge financial set-back for my boss," Renfield explained, "my boss has gone from being a billionaire to being only a mere multi-millionaire in the last year. Setting fire to his face will hopefully kill him and it will be payback for this rat."

"Okay," O' Mallow accepted the job.

"This is Faust's last known whereabouts," Renfield handed him a card, "you'll have to track him down from there."

"All right," O' Mallow picked up the card and left.

To be continued.