"Unauthorized, unappetizing, and unimportant," I said. I left him in the midst of a crowd of clamoring little girls and their parents. When I walked away, they sensed a bargain. I covered half a block before I let the grin take over my whole face.

"I figure Asfodeel's going to lose some money on the crash basis."

"But what about the dolls?" Nunzio asked. "He's gonna get more."

"As much as I hate to say it, we should just ignore them," I said. "We ... I made her a public figure. It's my fault. But if we make a big deal about these dolls, it will draw more attention to us."

"Let me go back there and negotiate with him, Boss," Nunzio pleaded. "Something ought to befall him for violating our copyright."

"Something's going to befall him, but not directly," I said. "I think I'll take Gleep for a walk here later on."

Nunzio grinned. "Perhaps this is the day that his obedience training just happens to fail."

"I'm counting on it. The Cake ceremony imposters, though, have got to be shut down. That affects our very bread and butter, so to speak."

"This is the address," Massha said, after we had turned about eight corners.

It looked like an ordinary bakery. I ducked my head to pass underneath the flour-sack towel that had been nailed over the doorway. Inside, a bunch of blindfolded Deveel children were playing Pin-the-suit-on-the-lmp. Each tot had a cutout of an incredibly ugly suit and was trying to tack it onto the image of an Imp wearing a red-flannel union suit. He didn't look any more embarrassed than I was.

"Hi, there!" called a nice, middle-aged Deveel woman. "Are you one of the parents? Oh, wait, you're a Klahd. No offense. Can I help you?"

I looked around. This was definitely the place. Imitations, and cheap ones at that, of all of Hermalaya's beautiful ritual objects were arranged throughout the big room, but it was a far cry from her oasis of peace.

"Are you the one running Reynardan Cake ceremonies?"

"Sure am! You just missed one! We're all done now." She caught one of the children as it raced by and wiped frosting off its smeared face.

"But... all these are children," I said, looking around.

She planted her big hands on her hips. "But of course it's for kids!" she said, looking at me as if I was out of my mind.

I fumbled for an explanation. "Yes, but, Dragon-pinning is part of the sacred rites of Foxe-Swampburg. You're cheapening it by using a different image. You're devaluing a historical rite!"

"Pal, I'll rip off your arm if you don't keep your voice down. These kids are having fun!"

"I am Skeeve the Magnificent. I am here as a representative of Princess Hermalaya of Foxe-Swampburg. You shouldn't be doing all of this."

The woman glared at me. "Buddy, I don't care who you are, but if you frighten these kids off, I will give you a black eye so large it will cover your whole body."

"Now, see here," I started.

The woman lowered her horned head until we were eye to eye and nose to nose. "You see here, you skinny Klahd. The kids love it! I'm not stopping just on your say-so."

"Take it easy, take it easy," Massha said.

"I'm not giving up on this one, Massha," I declared. "Not twice in one day!"

"You don't have to, Skeeve. Excuse me a minute."

She put a huge, meaty arm over the shoulders of the Deveel and led her away quietly. I tried to listen over the din the children were raising.

I heard the words"... genuine ... adult... contractor... Bazaar exclusive ... children." When she returned to me, the Deveel was grinning broadly.

"Mr. Skeeve, your associate told me all about what you're doing. I am so sorry to interfere with such a worthy enterprise. My name's Hepzibiltah, by the way." She seized my hand in both of hers and pumped it up and down. "Forgive me for not introducing myself, but these kids make me crazy. It's a wonder I can remember to go home at the end of the day."

I tried not to look suspicious. Deveels didn't act solicitous and placatory unless you had them over a barrel, one in which they could see an advantage for themselves.

"So, my associate, did she agree with the terms we proposed?" I asked Massha, trying not to sound as though I was totally in the dark.

"Well, master, she walked right into it... I mean, she likes the idea a bunch. Who wouldn't?"

"Indeed?" I inquired imperiously.

"Yeah, well," Hepzibiltah said, a little awkwardly. "I mean, I heard about it on the Crystal Ether Net, and it sounded like something the kiddies would like. I mean, I am already running a bakery. Having the kiddies come here to have a party just seemed like a natural extension of my business. I didn't mean to move in on your territory. I mean, you're Skeeve the Magnificent! I forgot all about y—I mean, it's been a long time since you've been around. I guess I thought you moved on."

That stung, but it wasn't her fault. I regarded her with a benevolent face.

"I am sure you did not mean to offend. Then it is agreed?"

"You bet," the matron said heartily. "I get two-year exclusive Bazaar rights to run this operation for kiddies, option to be renegotiated at the end of that time. And I will study to become a real Cake Master. I'm looking forward to it. It's been a hoot so far. Er ... you won't mind if the definition of kiddies gets expanded a little? Sometimes I get teenagers in here, the occasional frat party ... ?"

"As long as they don't have kiddies of their own, they can count," Massha said. "You know, twenty-nine is the new nine."

"Uh, okay," she said, doubtfully. "Sounds fair. But your fee? Twenty percent of the gross sounds a little, er, hefty."

"In exchange for calling yourself an official representative of the Foxe-Swampburg Cake Ceremony, it is minor. But... since you seem to be operating in a friendly and hygienic setting"—I glanced at Massha for her approval and got it—"fifteen percent will do."

"Still a little top-heavy. Ten?"

I spread out my hands. "Twelve and a half. Skeeve the Magnificent does not haggle."

"That is what they all say. buddy. But okay. Weekly collection is okay. That's when I pay all my suppliers."

"Enforcement of exclusivity will be handled by you, I assume?" I eyed her under my lowered brows.

"Honey, you can count on it. My husband's Mettro. You probably have heard of him?"

Mettro ran a large underground network of enforcers that worked in the Bazaar but had hired out to other dimensions for a fee. I had never needed his services, but I heard he was reasonably priced and would go anywhere. I raised one eyebrow. "Yes, I have."

"So, no problem. The kiddies get their Cake and eat it, too." Hepzibiltah burst into hearty laughter, which shook her ample flesh all around. "Get it?"

"I... got it."

Massha beamed as I shook hands with my new partner and swept out of the shop.

We turned into a side street where I dropped my disguise.

"Whew," I said.

"Not too bad," Massha greed. "A little extra in the kitty. I looked at her books. She's pulling in almost ten gold coins a week profit already."

"Sounds kind of marginal to me," I said. "Around here, ten gold coins is nothing." I started to turn back. "Maybe we could just make do with ten percent. Or five."

"Hold it right there, Hot Pants," Massha said, dragging me back by my arm. "Don't let your heart get in the way of the real reason we did that. Hermalaya needs the bucks, and you don't want anyone to get the idea that you're a pushover. You handled one difficult situation pretty well. Let's go back to Bunny and turn in this money. We're doing pretty darned well right now. Don't forget that."