35.

"Uh, yeah," I said, my eyes not leaving Abby's sprawling body. "Give me another whiskey. And make it real whisky this time." The bartender chuckled and moved behind the bar. As I watched, the bouncer came over and picked up Abby's feet, and began to drag him across the floor. His eyes avoided those of the pirate, who watched with detatched amusement.

The bartender sat down my drink, and I sat down my body on a stool. The pirate tapped the ashes of his pipe out, onto the bartop, and refilled it from an elaborate pouch he took out of one of his pockets. Then he sat down next to me.

"So," the pirate's voice growled, "Where's your friend with the beard? I hear some people's been lookin' for him."

"Some people?" I tested the whiskey and decided it was indeed real.

"Aye," said the pirate who sipped his own drink. "Where's he staying?"

"He left."

The pirate continued to eye me with some level of interest. "He left?"

"Yeah," I said.

"He left?"

"He said he'd be back in two weeks."

The pirate took a longer sip from his mug. "He say where he was headin'?"

I shrugged. "He said he'd be back in two weeks. That's all I've got."

"Curses," the pirate muttered, and took a thoughtful draw on his pipe. The smoke that he exhaled seemed to settle slowly to the bartop, instead of ascending like I'd expected. "Some of the people who's lookin' for this fellow, aren't the kind of people you want to be found by."

"I think he can take care of himself." After the things I'd seen Grod do recently, it was difficult to believe he had much to fear from anybody.

"If he could take care of himself, would he be here in the first place?"

I took another drink of whiskey. Oddly enough, the pirate had a point. "We just got back from Mexico," I said. "Some people chased us down there."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. "There was a priest guy, and his thugs."

"Oh," the pirate smiled. "Those guys."

"But then, later," I explained, "some other guy found Grod. Well, he found me, and then Grod came. Long story."

"Why don't you try that again," said the pirate. "This time, make sense."

I bit my lip. "This guy kidnapped me in his car. He must've been completely insane because he crashed the car. It caught on fire, but he kept saying something about it being his anniversary and wouldn't let me out." The pirate nodded, and I continued. "So Grod finds us and he pulls him out of the car. The guy says that he's got news for Grod, but Grod just blows his head off with the shotgun."

The pirate rolled his eyes. "Well," he said, "I'll be needin' to look into this. You know where to find me if you hear anything."

"Where," I asked.

"Here." And he stood up and walked out of the bar.

I watched his silhouette disappear down the street through the bar's windows, then turned back to my drink.

"Another bad week?" Said the bartender impassively. I nodded. The rest of the whiskey in my glass went down quickly, and I tossed another stack of ones down on the bartop. Outside, rain was beginning to patter down on the sidewalk and heaps of trash sitting around the corner. I was most of the way back to my apartment when I suddenly remembered, again, that I didn't have an apartment - I had a floor space at Larry's and all the luxuries that a building without electricity has to offer. For a moment I wondered if I should just walk to a hotel, but quickly dismissed it when I realized the effort involved.

I walked up to the door and reached for the handle only to find that the door had been left slightly open. My heart picked up its beat as visions of the robbers and would-be killers just on the other side of that door ran through my mind. I thought I heard the sounds of a woman crying something out. Cautiously, I pushed the door open and made my way into the darkened building. I ducked into the kitchen and quietly opened one of the cupboards - inside was a flashlight I had put there before I left on Grod's adventure. I hoped the batteries were still charged. I stepped into the living room and immediately realized the sounds were coming from somewhere ahead of me. As I flicked on the light, trying to decide on a phrase to yell at the would-be robbers, I tripped over something on the floor and fell down. As I looked up, I realized I had been fooled.

"What's up, dude," Larry said.

"Hey," said the girl underneath him.

"You want in on this," he asked.

"No, that's all right," I said, getting to my feet. I walked around behind the couch, laid down on the floor, and fell asleep.

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