Soiled: Body Parts

"Wotta revoltin' development this is".  

"El, just shut up for a second.  Please."

Donny looked at Griffon.  Hard.  Real hard.  Like a detective in some Noir novel staring at some dame that just wandered in off a rainy street.  You know the scene.  She comes in all legs and breasts, sits down in his chair and lights a cigarette.  She's frazzled of course but that's the drill.  He's in the corner pouring himself a scotch and hoping that he's gonna get up close and personal with those assets but he knows deep down that this bitch is a killer or thief or some other heinous creature and in about 300 pages shes gonna be stiffer than the front of his trousers.

"I done tol' ya boys.  Find me my heart and I'll usher ya on outta here.  That's it."  said the man in that deep, cigarette and whiskey groomed voice.

Donny looked at Elliot.  Elliot was looking at a crow sitting on a nearby headstone.  If you were to ask him, and of course no one would, he would tell you that said crow was plotting against him.  It was trying to lure him into a false sense of security so it could pluck out his eyeballs like fresh, skinless grapes and gobbled them right down.  

If you were to ask the crow it would agree.  

"Ok Old Man.  So you want me, and I say me because El is about as useless as a pecker on a Pope now, to find your heart for you.  Your solid Jade heart.  Your heart which you lost in some Postmortem poker tournament with one of these stenchy dead fuckers of whom you cannot recall which it was.  Here's an idea, Why don't you just ask them?"

Griffon snorted.  "I cain't jus' go about waking the gawd-demmed dead to ask some stupid fuckin' questions you little prick.  There's rules here just like in every world."

"But you can wake them for a Poker Tournament?"  Donny said is his best smart assed tone.

"Once a Century the Lady of this House allows these ol' Boys and Gals a night of fun.  I do mah best, as Caretaker, to provide them with that fun.  The very least anyone can do."

At the mention of a woman, Elliot returned his attention to the conversation, forgetting momentarily about the crow that was going to devour his facial features.

"Uhm, Lady?  What Lady?  Also, where in the blue green hell are we anyways?  No more cryptic bullshit either you shit kickin' good ol' boy bastard."

Donny shot daggers at Elliot.  Keep runnin' that jack-ass mouth of yours and hes gonna take that away too dumbshit is what he wanted to say but just kept his mouth shut.

"Boy, you best watch yer tone or you'll lose yer head.  Oh, sorry?  Sore subject I'm sure.  The Where is someplace akin to yer Christian Purgatory jus' we don't call it that.  We jus' calls it "The Boneyard" on account of that's all we can see.  Ya see, there's more than jus' Heaven, Hell and Purgatory boys.  There's a shit ton more than you city fed punks with yer Internets and Hybrid cars can even begin to fathom."

"Hybrid cars?  What the fuck are you on about?" replied Elliot.

"Oh, you think jus' cause I'm a dead 'ol cowboy I don't know my shit?  Listen here you dopey lil' fuck, I know enough to fill this whole damn galaxy with more shit than you ever will.  Now, if you can keep that rattle trap of yers shut for five fuckin' minutes I'll let you in on a little of it.  Deal?"

Donny picked up Elliot's head and nodded for him.  Elliot smiled a very nervous smile.

"Alright.  Jesus  Christ up in Heaven.  Ahem.  Anyway, you are here with us in the Boneyard.  This is my little chunk of the Ether.  I don' own it, don' misunderstand me, I just run it for Ms. Lorna.  Sweet gal but don't cross her and she hates smart mouthed lil' fucks even more than I do.  You copy me, Headley?"

"It's Elliot."

"I don' give a fuck if it was Davey Fuckin' Crockett with his gawd-demmed coon skin cap you little shit."

Griffon looked at Donny.  

"Ya see?  This is why yer here.  You have shitty taste for companions."

Donny just shrugged his shoulders.  He knew the man had him dead to rights.  Elliot was his oldest friend, his only friend really, it just seemed like he was constantly getting them into shit like this.  Hell, it was his fault they were here.  If he would have just backed off of that girl in the bar and gone home like Donny told him to they would not be having this strange ass conversation with the friggin' Ghost of the Old West here.

The girl was pretty, that much was true, she was pretty as hell but had that look of trouble.  Blonde hair, red lips and legs that started at the floor and went all the way up to her ass.  Elliot had no chance of walking away from that.  Donny kept telling him it was a bad deal, she looked familiar and so did the man in the pinstripe suit that she was with.  Tall dude with salt and pepper hair.  Looked like a more bad-ass George Clooney he did.  The two of them standing at the bar mingling with some other socialite types.  She was drinking a Margarita and he appeared to be drinking something the color of blood from a tall, slender glass. 

Elliot patiently waited for the man to wander off for the restroom, coke break or what have you and when he did, Elliot pounced.  The girl was very happy to speak with Elliot, hell, she was enamored with him.  She was like some simple minded mid-west girl visiting Hollywood and running into her favorite movie star.  Elliot was floored.  The deal was pretty much sealed.  She said her name was Esme and that she was a Succubus.  Now, Elliot had no idea just what the hell that meant so she responded by saying "Suck My What?  Let's have a drink first."  to which of course she laughed.  Oh, poor man.  His eyes kept telling his brain that she was trouble, there's a fire behind her eyes and her teeth are awfully sharp.  His nose chimed in with an observation that she smelled a little like Sulfur.  Sadly, his Dick was telling this brain that this shit was on like Donkey Kong and as always, The Dick wins.

Elliot turned to Donny and began to motion him to come over when he felt hot breath on his neck.  He turned to kiss tonight's lucky winner and found himself staring into a dark abyss.  The Man had returned.  He was none too happy.

"Excuse me", his voice like velvet dipped in honey, "Can I help you, boy?".

"Naw, this lady here and I were just getting ready to leave.  Gonna take her out stargazing and maybe get some Waffles."  said the drunken idiot,  "Nice to meet you, names Elliot.  That over there is my best bud in the whole wide world, Donny".  

He motioned to Donny and Donny nodded his head and smiled.  This was usually when the fight started.  Now, they weren't Brooklyn class brawlers but they gave as good as they got.  No, not really, it was about 50/50 in truth.

"Pleasure to meet you Elliot.",said the Dark Man in a Game Show host pantomime, "My name is Mr. Syn and I'm the man that's going to shatter your plans".

The world went black.