Sally stared at Morty. “Mothra scared you? It’s about a giant moth. They’re the teddy bears of the bug world.”

He shrugged. “Bears scare me too. Did you know more people are killed by bears every year than by sharks? That’s what bears are: furry sharks, but with hands.”

“Them,” said Tintin. “Giant ants under L.A.”

“Oh God. Don’t get me started on that movie. I swear, I slept with my parents for a week,” said Sally.

“Tarantula,” said Morty.

Tintin groaned. Sally shook her head as he said it.

“I’ll carry them,” said Coop as forcefully as he could without shouting. The other three looked at him. “I’ll carry the Jiminys. Problem solved.”

“Sorry,” said Morty.

“Touchy,” said Sally.

Coop shook his head. “We’re each set to make seventy-five grand from this job. With that kind of money, we can all take vacations, watch Attack of the Giant Ladybug, and talk to a shrink about our various insect phobias.”

“Fine,” said Tintin. “Let’s talk about me. I get that you need a Handyman on the job, and I’m as good at spotting and killing supernatural traps as anyone. But Morty made it sound like you might want more than that.”

“Not if things go according to plan,” said Coop.

“And if they don’t?”

Morty swirled the ice in his glass around. “The thing is, we haven’t exactly worked with this client before. I have it on good authority that he’s totally, one-hundred-percent legit, but if he isn’t . . .”

“Or if there’s something wrong with the plans,” Coop added. “Or if the Jiminys don’t take out all the alarms and security shows up. It would be nice to have a plan B.”

“And that’s me,” said Tintin.

“Right.”

“I thought I was plan B,” said Sally. “On the way out, I’m going to fog anyone’s brain in the vicinity. No one will see us coming out of the building. I can do it as long as we need.”

“No. You’re part of plan A. Plan B is where things mess up bad.”

Sally shook her head. “You have such a downer attitude these days, Coop. You used to be a lot more fun.”

“Jail has a way of sucking the merriment out of you,” he said.

“Then that’s what you’ll do on your vacation. We’ll lie on the couch and talk about bugs and you can see a shrink about getting un-Scrooged.”

Coop fished the cherry out of his drink and was about to toss it on the floor, but Sally plucked it from his hand. “Waste not, want not,” she said.

“That’s what they say,” Coop said. “And I’m not a Scrooge. Besides, what does it matter? It’s after Christmas.”

“Yeah, but with an attitude like that who’s going to be your Valentine?” said Sally.