Tuesdays with Tequila-Jack
Harley and Lafayette rounded the corner, toward the morgue.
"I don't see why you keep it in the morgue," continued Harley. "It's so... Who's that?" At the end of the hall, a very gray man stood, straightening his tie. Barry wandered out of the morgue behind him, looking like he'd just drowned a puppy. The gray man was saying something.
"Great. Don't worry, I'll call you - be moving around a lot and all that." Barry vomited into a corner and the gray man lit a cigarette. "Yeah, I have that effect on people."
"Seriously, who the hell is th-" began Harley, but Lafayette cut her off.
"That's the Hollow Man, the Devil's Grin, and Lord of the Dance; the most handsome," Lafayette coughed, "And enigmatic Jack Empty!" Jack smiled and winked at them.
"Jack Empty?" inquired Harley with a grin. "I hear you piss awesome and crap gold! Is it true that you have driven ninety-eight percent of Seekers to the edge of madness... and pushed?" Really, this was only asked because anyone who could crap gold so obviously needed to be harvested like corn and kept in a cage where they could create more gold. Not that Harley would be able to keep Jack in a cage... But, she had dreams.
"Yeah," said Jack, posing dramatically. "I have that effect on people. Now if that's all, I'll be on my way. Oh, and sorry about the mess in the morgue." This apology made Harley and Lafayette exchange confused glances. Needless to say that both were a tad worried.
"Wait!" said Lafayette. "Harley and I were planning a little get-together next Tuesday with the other forces of chaos and darkness and want to know if you'll be available."
Jack smiled knowingly. Harley and Lafayette waited. And waited. After a minute, Harley got tired of waiting and consulted her reflection. Lafayette, now feeling awkward and alone in the presence of the Lord of the Dance, better known as Jack Empty, opened his mouth to speak.
"I'd have to reschedule an appointment in a Seeker's backstory and put off murdering a group of orphans, but yeah, I can make it. Is there anything I need to bring?" he muttered, flicking a piece of lint off the breast pocket of his suit with surgical precision that would have made Lafayette jealous.
"Just your Objects," said Lafayette, acting as innocent as he could which wasn't all that innocent, but he could have gotten an "A" for effort. Disregarding the fact that effort has an e and not an a.
"Complex reasons," retorted Lafayette.
"Name one," Jack narrowed his eyes.
"Well," said Lafayette, who hadn't planned it out this far. "We will be performing... a ritual to... augment... the party's fun." He paused, as if mulling the statement over. "Yes! Augment the party's fun." We all know that repeating the statement made it that much more true.
Jack threw back his head and laughed. The laughter filled the room and crept into the secret places in the minds of Harley and Lafayette. Well, you know, the secret places that Harley hadn't yet filled with ridiculous amounts of shoes and fur coats. "You might have thought you needed that ritual before you knew I was coming, but trust me. If I'm there, you won't need it."
"Yeah, Harley began. "You know what they say about parties: 'If it doesn't have Jack, it ain't worth Jack.'" She batted her eyelashes at Jack. "Now, you'll need a date. May I suggest... moi?" Granted this was more or less said for all the reasons she flirted with me, money. Even if it was a fuel for her own vanity, nothing could have prepared her for his response.
"No, you and me just won't... fit. But if this fine stallion doesn't have a date," Jack winked at Lafayette. Harley, in turn, made a face that suggested that she wanted to cut off Jack's balls and put them in a pickle jar while getting rabid monkeys to copulate with his huddled-over and writhing form.
"I'm not sure I like you," she grumbled.
"Yeah, I have that effect on people."