On a walk through the empty streets, going to a cemetery late at night, the world seems small, docile. We were in a merry little group teetering back and forth, some of us had already had some toxic substance flowing in our bodies, others were waiting for grave stones. The walk there was almost silent. Until Kathy peered up around her.

"my car stereo turns off in second gear, but turns back on when the headlights turn on." she looked around for some comfort, or perhaps there was a hidden mechanic or Puerto Rican.

"It's possessed..." was the major reply of the night; Kathy did not seem upset by this.

The street lights were coming on, and we saw shaking in the bushes across the street. If the feral wolf had come, it had chosen a wrong night. There were a few Satanists among our ranks, and lord knows a few drug fiends ready to attack if given the chance. Yes, all were unstable, but a reliable group for travel. A wheel chair came bounding out down the mountainous hill from behind the bush. His speed was determined to knock him off onto the road below, crushing his already useless body. His mind was still good though, so good in fact that he had stopped Kathy and I in our travels earlier in the day. Chasing us like a speeding demon, only to stop and smile when we gazed out through the driver side window.

"You're hot!" he bellowed, Kathy smiled taking the compliment to heart. I don't really know what other sort of conversation went on at that time, I spent most of it trying to figure out how to make a portable earthquake machine developed by Tesla.

We had almost made it to our destination, inconspicuously dodging through 4 or 5 cars, all honking and screaming profanity as they tried to run us over in their hurry. They failed, and perhaps we felt less guilty of desecrating sacred space when we knew that these people were soon to die, and the earlier generation was exactly the same in respects.

The dusted path was long, and reminded me of Vietnam during the war, or at least it would have if those damned trees were falling over with the explosions of poorly timed hand held grenades. It was a bit dry and desolate there as well, but when dusk is coming, your eyes play tricks, and you think that the japs are on your tail... or worse yet your psychotic PCP eating allies. Now was not the time for this paranoia, if it had stuck me this early in the night, there was no hope in holding out until morning.

Charles was a welcoming host, he had to be considering he was 6 feet down and happily rotting in a casket. We toasted to his health, and to the hope that we would soon join him.

Music was blaring out of a portable boom box, Norwegian metal, satanic mumblings, screamings, and impish wails. The kind of thing that would drive any drinking sane individual mad. After a time, Kathy and I tried convincing, the stereo guardian to change the mix from desolate to upbeat...

it was about this time that my pocket vibrated again. I obviously had no idea, but nick stated behind me,

"your leg is twitching", or some such nonsense and I said,

"I can't hear you over this demonic rumble." to which he replied,

" I think we better find a plumber or an exorcist."

"There's no hope in salvation now, only hard liquor." by this time I had missed the call from Wesley, he was desperate to get a hold of me, his message was jumbled, and incoherent. Something about oxycotten, naked men, and lude sex acts. I swore to contact him as soon as possible, but at the moment, I was over come by the company, and the urge to get another CD put into the damned wailing machine.

If you're an expert, you can decipher storm from blood, or say hellish misgivings, but it all sounds the same to me. There are some throaty growls, some female wailing and screaming, followed by some rabid animal and an electric guitar. No insult to the listener, but my ear will never be trained enough to say,

"Is this nargaroth?" nick looks at me, and so does Rick, both of them are chocking the life out of me with their eyes. I beat off their murdering pupils with another gulp of jeggermiester, and prod at the buttons of my phone.

"Making them listen is useless, I think we should rip up the necronomicron and let those beasts go at It." she doesn't hear me, but my phone does, and I hear Wes screaming from the other end.

"Good I've reached you, let me just get up." I waddle through the darkness finding a tree for cover, peering at them all. Each person must be watched carefully, they could come in at any side.

'Where are you, things are going weird and you need to be here. They're snorting pills, and some poor bastard keeps trying to pull off my pants. Get off me you scum! I've been thrown to the dogs, and they are all in heat." he laughs, and so do I. there's suddenly a hand on my side and lips at my ear. I've been distracted, but the consequences are not that bad.

"Hello Wes,"

"is he trying to seduce me?"

" I don't think so, perhaps he's trying to find out if you are Bogarting anything, but I admit that was rather sultry." nick had wondered off again into a circle of friends before I had even finished that sentence, and now he was preoccupied with what looked to be a knife fight. I hoped that I would not have to bandage any wounds or dig a new plot before the night was through. My coordination was poor, and I had already urinated on a few trees before this point in the night.

"I'm afraid I'm stuck here for the night, but if you could find your..." I got distracted, and suddenly had to put down the phone, only to peer at nothing and pick it back up again. "Sorry about that, I thought something was coming."

"no problem, have a good night and I will see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, things are going well, I'll be lucky to escape with a few bruises."

And so the night goes on, stumbling and the struggle over thee radio. A mad man on a bike keeps bounding past me, and Cory and some nameless apparition keep snorting oxy and some other substance. Kathy seems distracted by death metal john and I am left all alone, with a pack or cigarettes and a CD case. For about 10 minutes, I am able to find something less alarming, and flow back into a peaceful world where life makes sense. This arch falls apart soon when the night is coming to a slow stall. People are getting up, and I am trying to run back into the woods. Someone runs after me and pulls me back, kicking and screaming. Kathy does not want to go either and she joins me in the struggle, we both bite and scratch any hand that tries to move us from our spot. The rest of them soon succeed despite out heroing action, they knew our energy sources would deplete and need for nicotine would make us more agreeable to leaving.

The path is more uneven, but shorter. There are shrieking birds and monkeys all around us. I feel like I have descended down into Dante's inferno, and there is no returning. when we reach the street, rich begins running in circles, and flailing his arms, the mad man on the bike keeps threatening to run over my feet. There's a solid anchor to my right, the only thing keeping me from going over the edge of this sudo reality. He also keeps me from falling over and cracking open my already bulging head.

we are not far over the first bridge when I car pulls up beside us,

"what kind of madness is this?" nick exclaims as the window rolls, and we both lean down to faceless shadow in the drivers seat with a glowing ember for a mouth. We look at each other in distress; this could be a bad end to a good evening.

"Are you guys alright?"

"Oh yes, we're good, superb... please move along," I manage to say. It's not until a few mismanaged steps later that I realize that it was my mother who pulled over to ask if we needed assistance, and not some seething CIA agent out for blood. Nick laughs at the concept, and we run into the night, dodging the wild animals, and screeching apparitions that come in our drunken path.

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