I'm dead...
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(a ghostly grey figure strolls through the wreckage of what once was a building. Chared corpses lay like fallen leaves. Smoke and dust hang in the air. The figure comes to a body that seems untouched, not even his clothes have taken damage. The body lays face down. The ghostly figure gives the body a swift kick to the side...)
ElGuapo>Get up Tim
Tim>Fuck Off... I'm dead
ElGaupo>No your not, now stand up
Tim>No
(ElGuapo releases a solid kick to the same spot as before.)
Tim>For christ sakes ElGuapo just let me be dead...
ElGaupo>your not dead, your just, not alive. But you still have a job to do, so stand up or...
Tim>...or you'll kill me?
ElGuapo>I really haven't the time for this... Tim>I don't want to get up. I want the light to come back so I can follow it. I've given up on this hopeless existence of mine and would very much like to call it quites. Sooo... if it's not to much trouble... fuck off. (ElGuapo delivers kick number three... Tim squerms, rolls over and sits up, revealing his very dirty face)
Tim>god your a bastered.
ElGuapo>Perhaps... but i am so on my own, god's nothing to do with it.
(Tim slowly climbes to his feet. )
ElGuapo>you don't need to get up, just stay here and explain to the authorities what happened and why your the only one left standing.
(Tim looked himself over, with a confused look. He hadn't heard what ElGuapo was saying)
Tim>So... I understand that I'm indestructable, but shouldn't my clothes be destoyed, or chared and ripped, or something.
ElGuapo>I don't know, I guess it's just one of those mysteries of the universe.
Tim>That's the best you can do...
ElGuapo>You mean after everything you've seen recently this is where you dispell your suspension of disbeleif.
(tim shruggs his shoulder)Tim>Soooo... what now.
ElGuapo>I need you to run an arrand.
Tim> you make it sound so easy... but somehow I think this is going to involve me being blown up again.
(ElGuapo rolls his eyes for a second and nods his head)
ELGuapo>I wouldn't put it past you...
Tim>great... so what the fuck is it i'm 'spose to be doing
ElGuapo> I need blood.(He says this in the matter-of-fact-could-you-pick-up-a-quart-of-milk-on-your-way-home-sorta way, that no one aside from some one who calls the underworld home, would.)
Tim>Any special brand or just whats on sale.
ElGuapo>What ever you find will do, so long as it's human... and fresh.
Tim>Is this...a ... for your personal enjoyment?
ElGuapo>no. I need it for a little idea i've put together...
Tim>a little idea that involves me getting the shit kicked out of me no doubt.
(ElGuapo rolls his eyes and gives another shruggi-noddy sorta response)
Tim>Sweeet...
ElGuapo>Oh and no homeless people. Their blood tastes funny.
Tim>I thought this wasn't for you...
ElGuapo>Well, maybe just a little. Man can't live on bread alone. Bread and blood yes, but not just bread.
(They both nod at each other, as though they had touched on a most powerful truth. Tim glances over at an old lady with her dog. She had decided to go to that nice park on the other side of town, so she could play fetch with her Mr. Wiffles, who interestingly enough, is the recarnation of Sgt Ace Conners; a well decorated US Soldier. Little did she know that earlier that year the park in question had been demolished to make way for a parking lot and wharehouse. Little did she also know that on this day impracticular, the wharehouse in question was about demolished to make way for a large smoldering hole. This was also to happen right infront of her very eyes. The women is quite stunned... the dog has less of a problem with the whole thing, he'd seen lots of this sort of thing in Nam. A side from the formentioned entities, the rest of the area was clear of life.)
Tim>One would think an explosion of this size would attract a larger crowd.
ElGuapo>Funny you should mention that, cause I think our quiet time is just about up...(the sound of aproaching emergency vehicles creates a good opprotunity for a scene change. ElGuapo vanishes, Tim takes off at a swift walk. Police are more an annoyance then a danger these days. Tim pats his pockets, then stops. He glaces up, then drops his head with dispare.)
Tim>Damn it... That building falling on me crushed my cigarettes.

(After a few more moments of stunned ah. Mrs Townsly decided she should tell the police what exactly she saw. Mr Wiffles passed the time by chasing his stubby tail, and Recalling battle plans of the counter strike his unit undertook during the TET offensive of '68.)