Saturday, September 14, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 157.20

The driver turned to the passengers. Harold could tell exactly where he was looking, thanks to the dark glasses, but the cigarette bobbed up and down as he spoke. “Going down.”

“Hell. Eh?” Harold peered out of the nearside rear window. The road looked to be a highway with significant foot traffic along its edges. All going one way, of course.”I didn't realise Laverstone was on a Hellmouth. Well, I mean I did, obviously. Jasfoup told me a while ago though I still haven't met Buffy Summers.”

“Bit young for you, isn't she?”

“Is she?” Harold sucked air through his teeth and considered the question. If Buffy was fifteen and in high school when the first season started in 1996 she would have been born in 1981, a little under twenty years his junior. He smiled. “She'd be in her thirties now.”

“And twice dead.” Jasfoup tucked his Bloodberry away in his pocket. “Three times dead the moment Gillian set eyes on her.”

“But Buffy was a vampire slayer.” Harold could imagine the two women fighting. “It'd be touch and go who'd finish off whom.”

“You watch too much television, Harold. However much you'd enjoy the idea of two women fighting over you you know what would really happen.”


“Buffy would fall for Gillian and they'd both kick you out of the bedroom.”

Harold sighed. “All my fantasies end in disaster.”

Sefskapoi snorted. “You get what you pay for.”

“I don't pay for dreams.”

“There you go, then. If you're a skinflint with the Sandman it's hardly surprising you come off badly. You ought to leave a healthy tip to get something decent.”

“A tip? Like money on the sideboard?”

“Yes.” Harold caught the Spall-demon's wink. “Like that.”

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