Neutral territory, no killing or eating, but the beer doesn't suck and the shoe rental is cheap.
And I have my own ball.
I keep it in a very expensive--and stolen--black leather bag, which I polish daily--it's not like I have anything else to do after Passions and Judge Judy are over. The ball itself is beginning to show a bit of wear and tear, but I think I'll hold on to it for a bit longer.
Currently I'm watching a Vratnor--big, three armed, scaly son of a bitch--lose to one of those poofy elves in silk robes. Feet up on the scorers table, chugging a beer, I'm celebrating scoring an all-time high 206 and winning twenty bucks off a wereleopard named Skippy.
In the past two weeks I must have won at least three hundred bucks. See, no one thinks I can win with my ball, so they just keep betting, and I just keep winning. The demon population is transient enough thanks to the Slayer that word hasn't spread yet.
Sadly I don't think my ball will last more than a week or so. I've already got my sights set on another one. It's nicely rounded with the requisite holes, though I'm not sure I like that blue color.
I don't think I can get another ivory one, though. I'm still a bit amazed that I got this one.
"Hey, Spike," Skippy calls on his return from the can. "Up for another game?"
Grinning wolfishly, I set down my beer and hoist my ball, turning it in my hands to admire the designs. "Sure. 'Nother twenty?"
"Let's make it double or nothing. That had to be a fluke. I mean, it's all bumpy, doesn't even roll right."
"It's not the roll, mate, it's the skill."
Stepping closer, the wereleopard examines my ball. "What you use to keep it shiny?"
"Shellac. It's a pretty good preservative."
As we stroll towards an empty lane, he asks, "So, who was she?"
I grin down into her empty eye sockets, taking in the bafflement frozen forever, and jam my thumb in the toothless mouth. "Oh, just a bint I was fucking. Annoyed me one time too many."
"Looks like she was pretty."
"Gorgeous, just nothing in here." I rattle the 'ball'. "Really nothing in here since I scooped out her minuscule brain."
"I thought you couldn't kill humans."
I frown at Skippy's look of suspicion. "She was a vampire. I ripped off her head as she prattled on about some shoe sale. Trust Harmony to defy tradition and leave her head behind when she dusts."
"Harmony?" Skippy chuckles. "What kind of vampire is named Harmony?"
"What kind of wereleopard is named Skippy?"
Skippy scowls. "Triple or nothing."
Stepping up to the lane, I let Harmony fly, and she takes out all ten pins.
"You're going down, Skippy," I chortle.