It’s all he can do to refrain from prayer. God probably doesn’t want to know what he’s doing here this morning, a borderline accomplice to evil in se… - Charles Stross

This is the Forecasting Operations Department, where one is supposed to imagine that crystal-ball gazing precognitives may or may not tickle the tummy of Schrödinger’s cat while juggling ampoules full of hydrogen cyanide and giggling madly at the whirling fog bank of the uncertain future.

Watch out for any signs—anything, however small—that suggests Billington isn't in the driving seat, if you follow my drift. Got that?"
Mo stares at him. "You think he's possessed?"
"I didn't say that." Alan shakes his head. "Once you start asking which captains of industry are being controlled by alien soul-sucking monsters from another dimension, why, anything might happen."

Any sufficiently advanced lingerie is indistinguishable from a lethal weapon.