(this is not, usually, the way that tim would brake the ice with someone new. But certain recent occurances have forced him to become a little, well, uncooth. that and he was currently stand infront of a sixfoot tall ckicken.)

Omen> I knew you were going to say that. that's why i put on my chicken mask.

(Maybe this is a poor time to jump in on this story... we'll go back a bit. Tim and El, after noticing a slight, well, problem in the social actions of our young tim, decided to consult some higher powers. after a quick phone call to hell, they were off to recieve assitance from the OMEn, who recently changed his name for legal purposess to "the omen formely know as the omen, but will, from this point forward be known as the omen that is known to thoughs who know, as mikee", Maybe you should know something very important about the mikee-omen. being bound to the earth for all time can be a little unnerving for a spirit. the only thing that really keeps them going is the fantastic nature of earth bound stuff. the totally unpredictable doings of this world are, at the very least fun to watch, and even more fun to take part in. but mikee-omen was cursed with forsight, he can't be suprised, not even on his birthday, not even in bed with his eyes clothed and six prostitutes. very sad. needless to say, over the last six thousand years, he's gone a bit bonkerz. that's an understatement. he's as loco as a new York cabbie on angel dust.)

tim> o.k. sooo... you know stuff eh?
Omen> everything, actually, before it happens. you see i've the curse of futuresight.
Tim> sounds neat. do you bet on a lot of football then?
omen> ofcourse. how do you think i live in such splender.

( tim glances around the very small studio apartment, the funiturings of which consist of an old futon, a stack of nintendo games, a six thousan doller wide screen hi def tv, a ton of dirty dishes, and a score of stratigically placed milk crates.)

tim> this kind of reminds me of my first apartment. i was eight, and i lived with this guy named bill. he was kind of old, and he alway insisted that i called him "mother superior". good cook though, and really a great card player. he used to wonder around the place in the skins of his victims, going on about how he was such a pretty girl...
El> uh... ya that sucks. look, as much as i'd love to spend eternity listening to the two of you rub your last remaining brain cells together in hopes of getting a spark... we really need to talk to you about something.
Omen>the demon thing?
El>yes well you see tim's been...
omen>acting weird, of course he has.
el>yes... we believe that...
omen>he's been possessed by a most foul evil beast.
el>exactley, i was hoping you could...
omen>howz about we save some time and you just assume that I already know what your going to say. i being the knower of all things. including your unintelligible ramble.

(Tim was quite pleased that for once the word "unintelligible" was used to describe someone other then himself.)

Omen>Tim... could you be a dear and say AAAHHH for me... that's it nice and wide now.

(with that the omen quickly lurched forward and stuck his fist down tim's THROAT. AFTER A FEW OF THE MORE AWCKWARD MOMENTS OF TIMS DAY, THE OMEN SLAMMED HIS OTHER FIST DOWN TIM'S GREATLY STRENTCHED OUT ESOPHOGAS. A BICULIAR LOOK FORMED ON THE OMEN'S FACE, AND WITH THAT HE PROCEDED TO DIVE HEAD FIRST INTO THE GAPING VOID THAT WAS ONCE TIM'S FOOD TUBE. THIS IS ONE OF THE STRANGEST THINGS TIM HAD EVER EXPERIENCED. THOUGH, FOR SOME REASON THE ONLY STEDY THOUGHT THAT FORMED IN HIS HEAD WAS, "SO THIS MUST BE WHAT IT'S LIKE TO GIVE A SPERM WHALE A BLOW JOB!" AND WITH THAT HAPPY THOUGHT MIKEE OMEN SPAT FROM TIM'S MOUTH LIKE THE HUMAN EQUIVALANT OF SEA MAMMAL GIZIM. TIM STOOD WOBBLING FOR A COUPLE OF SECONDS THEN FELL LIFELESS TO THE FLOOR. tHE OMEN HAD NOT COME BACK EMPTY HANDED, HE WAS HOLDING A YANKEES BASEBALL CAP IN ONE HAND AND A BUNCH OF CRUMPLED UP WRAPPERS IN THE OTHER.)

OMEN>WELL ITS MOST DEFFINATELY A DEMON. ONLY A TRUE FILTHY HELLSPAWN DEMON WOULD RUTE FOR THE YANKEES. AND THESE CONDOM WRAPPERS SEEM TO IMPLY THAT IT'S BEEN GETTING IN ONE IN YOUR STOMACH.

(TIM SUDDENLY SPRANG TO LIFE.)

tIM> UMM... NO ACTUALLY THOSE ARE MINE...

(EVEN THE OMEN HAD TO GIVE HIM A SOMEWHAT PUZZLED LOOK ON THIS ONE.)

tIM>WHAT... BAR BET...

(SILENCE HUNG IN THE ROOM FOR A VERY, VERY, LONG TIME.)

oMEN>RRRIGHT, WELL, ANYHOO... YOU'VE DEFFINATELY BEEN SHARING YOUR HUMAN SUIT WITH A DEMON. A PRATICULARLY NASTE ONE FROM THE LOOK OF THINGS. LUCKY FOR YOU i KNOW A REMEDY.
eL> WELL LETS HAVE IT...
oMEN> OH NO, NOT NOW...
eL> what!
oMEN> WELL I DON'T REMEMBER IT AT THIS EXACT SECOND.
eL> WHAT THE FFFFFF,,,, FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T REMEMBER IT. I'M JUST SOPPOSED TO BABY SIT KILLY MCGEE OVER HERE UNTILL YOU GET AROUND TO DRAGING THE NECASARY INFO OUT OF YOU MUTATED MIND!
oMEN> LOOKI HERE BITCH-BOY, FIRST OF ALL, I DON'T HAVE TO HELP YOU. SECOND OF ALL... KNOWING EVERTHING MEANS THERE IS A WHOLE SHITLOAD OF INFORMATION STORED UP IN THIS TEMPLE. IT TAKES SOME SERIOUS SEARCHING TO UNCOVER JUST ONE LITTLE BIT OF KNOWLEDGE. IT'S LIKE THE FUCKING LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, MY BRAIN!
tIM> SO WHEN DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET US WHAT WE NEED. I MEAN KILLINGS COOL AND ALL. BUT I JUST DON'T LIKE THE IDEA OF SHARING MY BODY WITH SOMEONE ELSE. EXPECIALLY A YANKEES FAN!
OMEN>IT SHOULDN'T TAKE TOO LONG ONCE i SIT DOWN AND THINK ABOUT IT. IN THE MEAN TIME WHY DON'T THE TWO OF YOU MAKE YOURSELVES USEFULL AND GO FETCH ME SOME HOT COCOA FROM ACROSS THE STREET.

(eLGUAPO HAD SO VERY MANY THINGS HE WANTED TO SAY AT THIS POINT, HOWEVER AT THIS POINT HE WAS PLAIN OUT OF OPTIONS. HE HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO COMPLY. TIM ON THE OTHER HAND WAS ALREADY WELL ON HIS WAY DOWN THE STAIRS. FETCHING HOT COCOA WAS THE BEST SOUNDING IDEA HE'D HEARD ALL DAY.)