Uriel places a hand thoughtfully on his chin. Orev has his arms folded in front of him, sleeves concealing his hands.

Uriel: What's the catch?

Orev: Just two things:

He unfurls a scroll and holds up his index finger. The scroll has a family tree diagram with mars and venus symbols and checkmarks and Xes. The lizard peers at him from his shoulder.

Orev: One, take only the first-born son from each household.

He flips the scroll around, revealing a diagram pointing to a door lintel marked with a dark substance. The lizard ducks down.

Orev: And two, make sure your troops don't lay a finger on any houses already marked with blood.

The scroll rolls up into Orev's hand.

Orev: Those ones are ours.

Orev: And ours alone.

Zoom on the scroll resting in Orev's hand, held out, palm up.

Orev: What do you say?

Cut to a shot of Uriel pointedly not looking at Orev, arms folded. Orev, meanwhile, is standing behind Uriel and just to his left, left arm on Uriel's shoulder, right arm extended out so as to wave the scroll in the general vicinity of Uriel's face.

Uriel: I say it sounds like you've got something nasty brewing and want to pin the mess on us.

Orev: Oh, on the contrary, he's taking full credit for this one. It's going to be one hell of a show, and this is your chance for front-row seats.

Zoom on Uriel. He tilts his eyes back to glare at Orev.

Uriel: Very generous. But why outsirce it at all, then?

Orev: As you said, it's going to be a very messy job. And you know how He hates to get His hands dirty.

Orev: But look, you don't even have to take us on our word for this one. Just wait 'til the mayhem starts. It'll be as plain as day.

Orev smirks.

Orev: Assuming you still remember what day looks like.

Orev balances the scroll between two thin fingers and tilts his head.

Orev: Last chance.