I regarded the sign above the button with amusement. It had been there for the past year, and the top corners of it had started to curl over. It was time to change the sign.

The button was still just as bright and shiny as it had been, when I first took the custodian job. It paid well, despite some of the weird instructions. Things like "All hand-written signs must be replaced with similar, hand-written signs. Floors must be swept with brooms made by Litchfield Broom Company. Paper towels are not to be used for cleaning knobs, windows, or mirrors, only the spider-silk washcloths may be used upon those surfaces."

And, every day, I went through the dungeon, resetting the traps, feeding the wandering monsters, administering first aid to them, when necessary, or contacting the Department of Creature Comforts when they needed replacing. And, of course, dealing with the remains of the slain creatures, if the adventurers that had been through hadn't done so already.

I reached for the DO NOT PRESS sign, and tore it from the wall. I slipped it into my pouch, to toss onto the hearth fire in my apartment, and carefully put the replacement sign up. I made sure the arrow was pointed at the center of the button, that the top was level.

I nodded, satisfied with my work, and, smirking, pushed the button. There was a bright flash, and a square of heavy paper slid out from the slot under the button. After several minutes, it showed my smirking face, as drawn by an ink pen, with the caption, "YOUR SOUVENIR OF HABERSHAM'S DEADLY DUNGEON!"

Because pushing the button was also one of my duties, so that the magical scribe always had something to do, at least once a week.

I loved that job.