AN: I am poor. I'm sorry. I can never own anything that rightfully belongs to Kevin Smith.
ChApTeR 4
Exhausted, Bartleby and Tzipora finally reached the motel, a small, run-down collection of cabins in a
group called 'Weary Traveler's Den.' Bartleby hid his wings as they walked into the office building, and
then realized he had no money. "Tzipora, honey, you're gonna have to pay for the room. I haven't got
any cash or anything."
"That's okay, B. I got it."
"That's what Loki used to call me..." Bartleby could sense another crying episode coming, and tried his
best to hold it back. Tzipora handed the man at the desk, a very old man, the money needed for a key
and its room, and the man smiled knowingly. As they were leaving the office, Bartleby asked, "Why was
that guy smiling like that?"
"Because he thinks you and me are gonna get it on." They walked a moment in silence, finding their lodge
for the night. Tzipora put the key in the hole, opened the door, and they entered. "Wow, what a palace,"
she said sarcastically, flopping down on the bed. Bartleby closed the door and turned on a couple lights.
"Yeah, this is amazing," he laughed, falling on to the bed, next to her. They stared at the ceiling, with its
peeling white paint. "Do you think we should cut off my wings tonight?" he asked, sitting up slightly,
propping his head up with his hand.
"If you really want to."
Bartleby thought for a few minutes. "Yeah, I do. Oh, man, this is gonna fucking hurt. Here, use this knife."
He handed her the one he had stabbed Loki with, his red dried blood still clinging to it.
Tzipora asked nervously, "Well...how do I do it? I mean, how hard should I push?" She got up off the bed,
as did Bartleby. He revealed his white, downy wings once again, opening them, and they practically
filled the room.
"I...When I cut off Loki's, it was just like cutting through a tough steak. Not too hard, but...Do we have any
alcohol nearby?"
"I think there's some in the mini-fridge over there. Lemme check." She did, and there was. "We've got
champagne and wine. Why do we need that?"
"After you cut them off, I'm gonna need a lot to drink. I haven't been able to drink in centuries. Which really
sucks ass," he said, walking over to her and handing her the knife. She accepted it in her shaking hand, and
Bartleby turned around. He took a deep breath and said, "Okay. Go."
Tzipora held the knife to the base of the left wing, and then took a deep breath herself. She started pushing
down and heard Bartleby whimper in pain, but continued to push down. She was about half an inch in
when it started bleeding. She gasped. "It's fine, they're supposed to bleed," Bartleby whispered through his
pain. "Keep going." Tzipora did as she was told, slowly and carefully cutting through the skin, muscle, and
bone. Five minutes later, both she and Bartleby were covered in drying blood as the wing fell to the floor.
"Don't stop, hurry, get it over with. This really fucking hurts. Fuck!" he screamed in pain. Tzipora bit her lip
and started in on his right wing. Bartleby gritted his teeth. He never imagined anyting would be able to
hurt this much. Another five minutes later, his other wing fell softly to the floor. He reached up behind him
to feel what was left, but Tzipora had cut close. The only remaining signs of his wings were tiny protruding
stubs. "Damn," he muttered, falling onto the bed on his stomach.
Just then, Bartleby felt a strange sensation. In his pants. Things were shifting, things were growing. He
gasped in surprise, then smiled mischieviously. He had figured out what was happening. Bartleby lay still,
waiting for his now-human body to finish its tranformation. Tzipora watched him lay on the bed from
across the room. She could once again not believe that all this had happened to her one day. Life sure
wasn't all that boring anymore. She gingerly walked across the room to sit next to Bartleby on the bed. She
reached down and held his hand, and he picked his head up to smile at her. She realized then that she
loved him completely. Tzipora had never felt this way about anyone before. Bartleby hadn't, either. He had
loved Loki, that was true, but not like he loved this girl. This was different. "I need alcohol. And lots of it,"
he said to her, and she smiled as she got up to get it for him.
ChApTeR 4
Exhausted, Bartleby and Tzipora finally reached the motel, a small, run-down collection of cabins in a
group called 'Weary Traveler's Den.' Bartleby hid his wings as they walked into the office building, and
then realized he had no money. "Tzipora, honey, you're gonna have to pay for the room. I haven't got
any cash or anything."
"That's okay, B. I got it."
"That's what Loki used to call me..." Bartleby could sense another crying episode coming, and tried his
best to hold it back. Tzipora handed the man at the desk, a very old man, the money needed for a key
and its room, and the man smiled knowingly. As they were leaving the office, Bartleby asked, "Why was
that guy smiling like that?"
"Because he thinks you and me are gonna get it on." They walked a moment in silence, finding their lodge
for the night. Tzipora put the key in the hole, opened the door, and they entered. "Wow, what a palace,"
she said sarcastically, flopping down on the bed. Bartleby closed the door and turned on a couple lights.
"Yeah, this is amazing," he laughed, falling on to the bed, next to her. They stared at the ceiling, with its
peeling white paint. "Do you think we should cut off my wings tonight?" he asked, sitting up slightly,
propping his head up with his hand.
"If you really want to."
Bartleby thought for a few minutes. "Yeah, I do. Oh, man, this is gonna fucking hurt. Here, use this knife."
He handed her the one he had stabbed Loki with, his red dried blood still clinging to it.
Tzipora asked nervously, "Well...how do I do it? I mean, how hard should I push?" She got up off the bed,
as did Bartleby. He revealed his white, downy wings once again, opening them, and they practically
filled the room.
"I...When I cut off Loki's, it was just like cutting through a tough steak. Not too hard, but...Do we have any
alcohol nearby?"
"I think there's some in the mini-fridge over there. Lemme check." She did, and there was. "We've got
champagne and wine. Why do we need that?"
"After you cut them off, I'm gonna need a lot to drink. I haven't been able to drink in centuries. Which really
sucks ass," he said, walking over to her and handing her the knife. She accepted it in her shaking hand, and
Bartleby turned around. He took a deep breath and said, "Okay. Go."
Tzipora held the knife to the base of the left wing, and then took a deep breath herself. She started pushing
down and heard Bartleby whimper in pain, but continued to push down. She was about half an inch in
when it started bleeding. She gasped. "It's fine, they're supposed to bleed," Bartleby whispered through his
pain. "Keep going." Tzipora did as she was told, slowly and carefully cutting through the skin, muscle, and
bone. Five minutes later, both she and Bartleby were covered in drying blood as the wing fell to the floor.
"Don't stop, hurry, get it over with. This really fucking hurts. Fuck!" he screamed in pain. Tzipora bit her lip
and started in on his right wing. Bartleby gritted his teeth. He never imagined anyting would be able to
hurt this much. Another five minutes later, his other wing fell softly to the floor. He reached up behind him
to feel what was left, but Tzipora had cut close. The only remaining signs of his wings were tiny protruding
stubs. "Damn," he muttered, falling onto the bed on his stomach.
Just then, Bartleby felt a strange sensation. In his pants. Things were shifting, things were growing. He
gasped in surprise, then smiled mischieviously. He had figured out what was happening. Bartleby lay still,
waiting for his now-human body to finish its tranformation. Tzipora watched him lay on the bed from
across the room. She could once again not believe that all this had happened to her one day. Life sure
wasn't all that boring anymore. She gingerly walked across the room to sit next to Bartleby on the bed. She
reached down and held his hand, and he picked his head up to smile at her. She realized then that she
loved him completely. Tzipora had never felt this way about anyone before. Bartleby hadn't, either. He had
loved Loki, that was true, but not like he loved this girl. This was different. "I need alcohol. And lots of it,"
he said to her, and she smiled as she got up to get it for him.