Fly me to the moon
Conrad Laughlin was a man on a mission. More than anyone besides his specialists knew of. The Justice League's Watchtower satellite required minute-by-minute updates and maintenance. This is not something normally handled by its members, so tech support is always moving through.
The background check is well and truly exhausting. One day's work requires a month of informational requests, as well as interviews with family, and what appeared to be a "spirit sniffing" from a rhyming gargoyle. That was the strangest part of the entire day so far. The fact Laughlin's packed lunch now bore the faint smell of brimstone was just an added bonus.
He wasn't able to bring any of his own tools as everything necessary would be provided by the League staff, and a schematic as to what he'd be facing was completely out of the question. Conrad was working blind here, but when your client bases itself on universal security, its a moot point.
Turning to the worker next to him in a rather bright orange (with garish blonde work-boots), he spoke quickly. "If the pay for this wasn't ridiculous, I'd almost do it for the sights. Where are you out of?"