Thursday, August 9, 2012

Back in Action

The Wednesday night Weird Tales group is back in action.  There is a slight line up change.  Kreskin took off with a woman.  But Team Victory does not stand still.  It evolves and adapts.  Enter the mentalist Erskine.  To Boris's dismay the replacement wore nice clothes and no gun...

Heyward sent Team Victory on another job after he tried to undercut our pay.  Our job, to attend the reading of the will for Cyrus Westerly.  Cyrus was planted ten years ago.  Something fishy about it.  Rich folk, who understands them?

We doive over to the mansion by the sea and spoke to the lawyerman.  While he speaks I'm paying attention to the servant lady.  She mentions something about spirits in the house.  I don't like spirits.  Five folks will arrive to listen to the reading of the will.  I'm here to make sure no one gets all fussy.  Flashlight is already duct taped to the barrel of Ivanka so I'm ready.

Our preliminary inspection of the room, the will is kept in a safe, Don found signs of someone who replaced a false frame around the safe.  He took it down and we found a crawl space.  Old mansions have crawlspaces.  Nothing new, but I still wanted to look.

The I-hope-to-be-rich folks come in.  All very fragile.  The men were more like women and the women were wisps.  Humanity is very disappointing.  Servent lady mentioned spirits again. 

I don't like spirits.  You can't shoot them.  Ask servent lady what's good against spirits.  Rock salt.  I go to the kitchen.  No rock salt so load up with two pockets of table salt.  I'll make it up as I go.  While all this is happening I formulate in my mind what is about to happen.  The old man was a bad magic person, there are spirits all over the mansion, its ten years later, reading the will at the time and place of the old man's death.  The will is a spell and the spirits are going to possess us! 

They read the will.  I stand as far away as possible with my hand in my pocket ready to throw salt.  Hmm, no spirits.  Sorta boring actually.  No one screams.  No one fights.  But, then we get the news there is a homocidial maniac on the loose.  This is more my style. 

We search the basement.  The room full of toys creeped me out.  Spirits like to play with toys.  Rock in chairs.  And slam doors.  No homocidal maniac. Damn, can't catch a break.

People going to bed.  Storming outside.  No rest for Team Victory.  I grab a chair and put it outside the frail woman's bedroom that got rich tonight and wait for the screaming to begin.