AN: No need to state it again. If you've read this far, you know what I'm gonna say anyway.
ChApTeR 12
Bartleby ran into the roadside liquor store as Tzipora sat dozing in the truck. Now that he was able to drink again,
he had the urge to do it every waking moment. He bought some Jack Daniels, a bottle of vodka, and a case of beer
before returning to the truck. He wondered how he would be able to smuggle it aboard the train. Setting the brown
paper bag on the seat between himself and Tzipora, he started the truck and finished the rest of the remaining twenty
miles to the train station. In case The Gang was here, he'd have to disguise himself and the girl somehow. Bartleby
woke Tzipora up and told her to run in and buy some sunglasses and makeup. "Why in the hell would I buy that?"
she asked groggily. She stretched as she climbed out of the cab of the truck, accepting the money Bartleby handed
to her. "Wait a minute, where'd you get money?"
"I found it on the side of the road," he told her. In all actuality, he had killed the liquor store owner by breaking his
neck and stole the money out of the cash register. But his little girlfriend didn't need to know that. The hundreds of
dollars he had "found" would keep her from questioning him. "Go on, I'll park this somewhere," he said, watching
her walk inside the station. J.Lo booty. That's what they called it right? That's what she had. Mmm, maybe he'd do
something there on the train trip back to Red Bank. Bartleby felt that tightening of his pants again and cursed aloud.
Stupid body and its stupid hormones... He parked the truck at the far end of the parking lot and left the keys in the
ignition. He wasn't gonna use the truck any more, might as well leave it for someone who was going to. Putting all his
booze in one bag he headed off toward the main door. As he was walking through it, he thought he saw someone
inside who looked like...Nah, it couldn't be. No way in Heaven it could be. Bartleby shook his head. Maybe some
remaining effects of his hangover had made him see Loki. Loki wasn't here; Loki was dead. He had killed him. 'Don't
think about it!' Bartleby commanded himself.
Tzipora met him outside the main door with some sunglasses, and to Bartleby's surprise, a blonde wig. "Okay, about
that wig," she started explaining as he placed it on his head, "I found that in the garbage." He glared at her. "But it was
in a clean area...of the trash. Does that make sense?" Bartleby nodded, and finished adjusting his hair. They both
pulled on their pair of mirrored sunglasses, and Tzipora pulled some makeup out of her pocket. "Purses so do not
work for me. I'm always forgetting them somewhere." She had pulled out some brown eyeshadow and started
smearing it all over her cheeks. Then, she pulled out a little mirror to smooth out the color. "Ta-da, instant tan. Your
turn." Bartleby complied, and let her rub the powder on him. Tzipora stifled a little laugh, then said, "Oh, my Lord,
you've gotta see this." She handed him the mirror, and he looked at himself. He chuckled, then shook his head.
"Can we say, 'Surf's up?' Let's go get our tickets. I need to get back to the East Coast."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Loki whispered to Bethany, "That's him. Look. Over at the ticket counter." Bethany looked in the direction the former
angel--ghost?--had described.
"That is Bartleby?" she asked incredulously. It didn't look anything like the other former angel--human?--to the Last
Scion. The man looked more like a California beach bum.
"Definitely him. What a shitty disguise. What'd he do, pull it out of the trash?" Loki joked. The two they were watching
walked away from the counter. "Quick, get over there. We need to see where they're headed." Bethany and Rufus
ran to the counter, while Loki and the rest of the entourage secretly followed their targets. They first went into a small
store and bought a bookbag, for some reason. Then Serendipity noticed what they were placing in the bookbag.
Bartleby and Tzipora were transferring alcohol from the brown paper bag to its new carrier. "Bartleby, you drunk,"
Loki mumbled under his breath. But of course, he'd want to drink as much as possible. Millennia of no boozing will
do that to you. Damn, what did Loki do as soon as he was human? Get plastered. Oh, but they were on the move
again. Rufus ran up to them, followed closely by Bethany. "They're on a train to New York. We got tickets for all.
Let's move." Jay and Silent Bob went ahead and got on the train only a little while after Bartleby and Tzipora, and
when the coast was clear, waved for the others to come aboard.
"Why, for the love of God, does it always end up with us on a train?" Bethany complained, taking a seat in their
compartment.
"'Cuz that's just our destiny; we are destined to keep our souls moving, for fear that if we do stop, life will no longer
have meaning because we are at a standstill. The soul must experience new stimuli, new experiences, to be content."
Jay looked from stunned face to stunned face as he concluded his little speech. "Or maybe 'cuz none of us want to
take a plane." A collective groan pursued. "What-the-fuck-ever. We're going to New York!"
ChApTeR 12
Bartleby ran into the roadside liquor store as Tzipora sat dozing in the truck. Now that he was able to drink again,
he had the urge to do it every waking moment. He bought some Jack Daniels, a bottle of vodka, and a case of beer
before returning to the truck. He wondered how he would be able to smuggle it aboard the train. Setting the brown
paper bag on the seat between himself and Tzipora, he started the truck and finished the rest of the remaining twenty
miles to the train station. In case The Gang was here, he'd have to disguise himself and the girl somehow. Bartleby
woke Tzipora up and told her to run in and buy some sunglasses and makeup. "Why in the hell would I buy that?"
she asked groggily. She stretched as she climbed out of the cab of the truck, accepting the money Bartleby handed
to her. "Wait a minute, where'd you get money?"
"I found it on the side of the road," he told her. In all actuality, he had killed the liquor store owner by breaking his
neck and stole the money out of the cash register. But his little girlfriend didn't need to know that. The hundreds of
dollars he had "found" would keep her from questioning him. "Go on, I'll park this somewhere," he said, watching
her walk inside the station. J.Lo booty. That's what they called it right? That's what she had. Mmm, maybe he'd do
something there on the train trip back to Red Bank. Bartleby felt that tightening of his pants again and cursed aloud.
Stupid body and its stupid hormones... He parked the truck at the far end of the parking lot and left the keys in the
ignition. He wasn't gonna use the truck any more, might as well leave it for someone who was going to. Putting all his
booze in one bag he headed off toward the main door. As he was walking through it, he thought he saw someone
inside who looked like...Nah, it couldn't be. No way in Heaven it could be. Bartleby shook his head. Maybe some
remaining effects of his hangover had made him see Loki. Loki wasn't here; Loki was dead. He had killed him. 'Don't
think about it!' Bartleby commanded himself.
Tzipora met him outside the main door with some sunglasses, and to Bartleby's surprise, a blonde wig. "Okay, about
that wig," she started explaining as he placed it on his head, "I found that in the garbage." He glared at her. "But it was
in a clean area...of the trash. Does that make sense?" Bartleby nodded, and finished adjusting his hair. They both
pulled on their pair of mirrored sunglasses, and Tzipora pulled some makeup out of her pocket. "Purses so do not
work for me. I'm always forgetting them somewhere." She had pulled out some brown eyeshadow and started
smearing it all over her cheeks. Then, she pulled out a little mirror to smooth out the color. "Ta-da, instant tan. Your
turn." Bartleby complied, and let her rub the powder on him. Tzipora stifled a little laugh, then said, "Oh, my Lord,
you've gotta see this." She handed him the mirror, and he looked at himself. He chuckled, then shook his head.
"Can we say, 'Surf's up?' Let's go get our tickets. I need to get back to the East Coast."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Loki whispered to Bethany, "That's him. Look. Over at the ticket counter." Bethany looked in the direction the former
angel--ghost?--had described.
"That is Bartleby?" she asked incredulously. It didn't look anything like the other former angel--human?--to the Last
Scion. The man looked more like a California beach bum.
"Definitely him. What a shitty disguise. What'd he do, pull it out of the trash?" Loki joked. The two they were watching
walked away from the counter. "Quick, get over there. We need to see where they're headed." Bethany and Rufus
ran to the counter, while Loki and the rest of the entourage secretly followed their targets. They first went into a small
store and bought a bookbag, for some reason. Then Serendipity noticed what they were placing in the bookbag.
Bartleby and Tzipora were transferring alcohol from the brown paper bag to its new carrier. "Bartleby, you drunk,"
Loki mumbled under his breath. But of course, he'd want to drink as much as possible. Millennia of no boozing will
do that to you. Damn, what did Loki do as soon as he was human? Get plastered. Oh, but they were on the move
again. Rufus ran up to them, followed closely by Bethany. "They're on a train to New York. We got tickets for all.
Let's move." Jay and Silent Bob went ahead and got on the train only a little while after Bartleby and Tzipora, and
when the coast was clear, waved for the others to come aboard.
"Why, for the love of God, does it always end up with us on a train?" Bethany complained, taking a seat in their
compartment.
"'Cuz that's just our destiny; we are destined to keep our souls moving, for fear that if we do stop, life will no longer
have meaning because we are at a standstill. The soul must experience new stimuli, new experiences, to be content."
Jay looked from stunned face to stunned face as he concluded his little speech. "Or maybe 'cuz none of us want to
take a plane." A collective groan pursued. "What-the-fuck-ever. We're going to New York!"