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July 5, 1998 |
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Webber's Wayside Inn...
Hank:
Gaunt and hollow eyed, this
six foot tall skeletal figure is clad form head to two in black
leather. A black Stetson ringed with finger bones sits atop his head
and around his throat is a sting tie, tied with a clasp made from the
skull of some small mammal. He sports dark gloves on his slender
hands and beneath a sturdy longcoat is a tight shirt that clings to
his body frame. The razor sharp spurs attached to his boots complete
his ensemble. Around his waist are several belts on which are hung a
military saber, a pair of Colt .45's and sever human skulls of sizes
ranging from infant to adult. His faces is colored a mottled gray and
he has no ears, nose or lips to speak of. Deep set into his skull are
two cold dark eyes and a chunk of tobacco is lodged between cheek and
gum. When he speaks, his voice sounds like sandpaper grating on metal
and his face seems locked in a hideous grin.
Hank is leaning over the counter, the register drawer open and a handful of change. He looks up as Yosannah enters from the street. She pauses at the doorway, startled at first as she stares at him. Hank grins and tips his hat, "Ma'am. This here's a stick up. But don't yew fret none. Ah just' need 'nough t'get that kaleidoscope o' yers goin." He gestures back towards the jukebox.
She crosses her arm, "Friend, see, the object of the Jukebox is so that I can make money.." She heads behind the bar and slams the register door shut while trying to keep some sort of composure.
Hank moves his hands out of the way before the get slammed in the drawer. He then leans forward, sniffing at her a bit, "We all met somewheres 'afore?" One of his hands still stuffed with her change.
Yo slaps a hand over his, "I *seriously* doubt it."
He then drops the change on the counter and tips his hat, revealing briefly a tangle of black hair, "Allow me t'introduce mahself. Henry B. Williams, at your service. but folks just call m' Hank"
Yosannah quirks an eyebrow, "Funny guy, you were just try'n to rob me and now you're at *my* service. Are you one of that Romneous' guys creations or something?"
He takes this opportunity to snag a shilling from the counter and heads over tot he jukebox. "Ah ain't met t'feller in question, li'l missy. Ah'm Famine." He then explains.
She watches as he grabs the coin, "Hungery then? Well, if yer' need'n some food I got some grub in the kitchen..." her voice unknowingly sliding into a sort of twang. She seems to realize this as she shakes her head and adds, "So there's no need to go robbing my place."
Hank pops the coin in the jukebox and stares, "Spicegirls." he mutters to himself, "They sound tasty..." he says licking a black swollen tongue across his lipless mouth. He then glances back to her, "not less'n yew got a cook y' ain't mind part'n with."
Her jaw drops, "That's disgusting."
"Y'all ever tried it?" Hank looks at the selection some more, "Y ' got any country and western here?" He glances back at her.
She rolls her eyes, "I don't know. Some Garth what's his face and 38 Special, does that count?"
Hank gestures with a bony finger, "Ya'll show me." he tells her.
Yo crosses her arms and comes out from behind the bar, "what, can't you read?"
Hank grins, "Some. most folks is more'n happy to do mah readn' fer me."
She presses a button on the machine glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, "Here. G.A.R.T.H. Garth. Got that? And this one, People seem to like this 'Thunder Rolls' Song..."
Hank peers at it. He then shrugs in confusion and just presses the button. She backs away from the jukebox and waves a hand, "See, that wasn't hard."
Hank looks around, "So, this yer place?"
She crosses her arms as if she were chilled, "Yeah."
He suggests, "If yew were dead yew wouldn't feel th' cold near as much.
Yo tries to smile, "I'm sure." She takes another step away from him and stumbles, catching herself at the wall. Her head drops to her hand for a moment.
Hank sings along, "An t' thunder roooolls..." He then looks at her, "Feel'n a mite peckish, there li'l lady?"
Yosannah lifts her head, her eyes are now black pools of darkness.
Pestilence surfaces from Yo."Henry," she scolds, "She... Yosannah... doesn't know about me or us. So if you want to push me out of her, please, persist in your stupidity."
Hank shrugs, "Ah was just be'n gentlemanly."
Pestilence closes the distance between the two of them and pokes a finger in his chest, "I don't need gentlemanly. I need you to bide me some time." She props a hand on the jukebox.
Hank blinks and nods, still looking a but unsure, but obviously eager to please.
Pestilence points to the front door, "Go. I'll find you."
Hank gives a nod, still looking a bit bewildered. he then exists, tipping his hat as the song ends.