Shmuel awoke, heart racing. He had had the dream again. The nightmare. It was always the same. He found himself standing just outside Reuven’s room, listening to the sound of Reuven’s television making staticky noises. He needed to give Reuven a letter he had received in the mail, so he knocked. But Reuven wasn’t alone. A vaguely threatening shape stood over him. At first in his dream Shmuel assumed it was Colonel Mustard with the candlestick, but as he rushed to save his son, he saw the man’s face. And it was his own. Usually, he awoke right there, but this time he had dreamed a little longer. In his dream he had watched himself pulling out a stiletto that was wrapped in Rivky’s dress and stab Reuven.
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Back in his home, Oscar was trying to choose a personality, but his fatigue was making it difficult. He needed to base his character this time on someone assertive but calm, someone gracefully sly but also down-to-earth and human. For inspiration, he went to the gallery of faces he had worn in his former career as a body double and impersonator. Travis Grunfield, Gary, Paul, Zevulun, John Williams, Shmuel, Shoshana Beis. And then he had it. He as the new Menachem M. Grossman would assume a character similar to Gary, the sly, charming-yet-unlikeable, gracefully clumsy, tall-but-in-a-short-way policeman and track down the man he thought he had killed. Gary had been a disaster. He had nearly been exposed and had fled in shame. But this time, he swore by Baal Zevuv, this time would be his most successful yet. And when he was done, he would rule the world. Then he realized that world domination hadn’t been the objective in the first place and didn’t have to be now. And then he took a nap. But when he awoke, he took on a new form. A far more powerful and dangerous one.