Thursday, January 23, 2014

Grok Bletchman, Underworld Census Taker

There was activity at the entrance as Jeeves and his security detail stepped onto the foyer proscenium and motioned for the doormen to allow the newest arrivals entrance. The double Waterford crystal doors swung open and there stood four mounds of mouldering flesh. If hair length could be used as a stereotypical marker, there seemed one female and three males; though it may well have been a boy guitar player and three crewcut lesbian groupies for all I knew. Such are the hardships of collecting monster demographic data by gender, my particular specialty.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Meet Wesley Cooper and his Family. Jeeves announced in his best Shakespearean voice. They are Zombies, he added smugly, as if the smell didn't give them away.

That about finished the guest list. Only the werewolves hadn't been introduced, and as it was only 11:40, I figured they were at least 20 minutes away, drama queens that they are. It was just as well. Another night of watching the vampires and werewolves flashing canines at each other would have made me puke anyway. I've about had it with creature oneupmanship. It reminds me of the Japanese enclave and that stupid Godzilla doing the teaberry shuffle every five minutes. I couldn't have been happier when Mothra finally knocked him on his ass, damn show off lizard deserved everything he got.

My stomach was beginning to rumble; I hadn't eaten all day and the zombies were scarfing up all the brain canapes. I'd almost left my position at the top of the stair when the mansion's doggy door flung open and in walks the bejeweled Disembodied Hand with a pack of things that could have been cooties following close behind.

Great, now the munchies would have to wait. I needed to do an interview and determine a species classification for the Hand's hangers-on. They look "hideous" to me, but sure as hell if I write that down they'll turn out to be "malevolent", and my boss will chew my butt for screwing up the numbers. Like a dozen more hideous would make a difference in the scheme of things. A monster's a monster for dammit's sake; Some nights this job really sucks!

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