There were many things TommyInnit had expected to happen when he opened his clinic that morning.

An injured supervillain? Standard.

Wilbur turning up without an appointment, bleeding on the furniture, and claiming it was somehow everyone else's fault? Unfortunately standard.

Techno appearing in the kitchen and eating food that did not belong to him? Tommy had long since stopped asking.

What he had NOT expected was a fucking DEMON.

Or nine sword-wielding lunatics.

Or the second demon.

Or the demon who looked like he had crawled out of a Victorian nightmare and was now staring at the ceiling tiles with the expression of a man contemplating interior design.