All it takes to ruin everything is one well-placed idiot. John Iverson is just that idiot. Running out of money and prospects, he took a job for janitorial work, listed at twice minimum wage, with one provision: No questions asked or answered.  This job, as to be expected, was something unsavory. In particular, it was for the world's largest secret government agency, a compilation of the subjects of a thousand different conspiracy theories, of the paranormal and unknown, and of the cutting edge of science: The Organization. Most people would recognize that such a thing should be kept secret, and that sharing sensitive information obtained in the line of duty would be an extremely terrible and unsafe idea. John is not most people. In fact, he's more the sort of person to use his newfound knowledge to pedantically correct people on the internet, and then bask in e-fame.   The consequences of such include, but are not limited to: Assault, demonic summoning, grand theft auto, temporal manipulation, sudden dog ownership, trespassing, being held at gunpoint, a few pleasant dates, dismemberment, grooming, and the apocalypse.