"Hi, is Infernaga there?"
"Yes," Memento Mori says into the phone. "She is here, and has been here all day, relaxing in the convenience of an alibi."
"...The news says that seventeen separate buildings are on fire downtown."
"Lamentable," Memento Mori says. "Perhaps she has a point about the malicious and unamusing character taken on when pranks become obligatory. I will tell her right now, while she is within earshot. Did you hear that, Infernaga? I concede that you are correct about this holiday. Yes. Yes, I imagine you will never allow me to forget this. I will rue the admission even unto your insufferable deathbed. Would you also like to gloat to this person on the telephone?"
She pauses. The phone line roars with the white noise of a dead silent room.
"She declines on this occasion," Memento Mori says, with grave-chill solemnity, and hangs up.