(xandor leaned down toward the coffin and kissed the old man on the forehead.)

Xandor> just because we didn't always get on, doesn't mean he's not my father.
priest>do you truely believe in that sick little head of yours that your father would want his murderer at his funeral.
Xandor> Murderer! i'm apoled... i am not even being considered as a potential suspect. it is true that i did gain a substantial peice of his territory, but that didn't mean i was behind his death. it simply isn't my style.

(Xandor grasped father Malcom by the collor and pulled him to where thier faces were almost touching.) Xandor> I would've done far more 'artistic' things to his ugly shell, had the call been mine. no, sadly, my father had many worse enemys then even I.

(xandor reliesed the stunned minister.)

Xandor> look, don't you have something Godi you could be doing. like saving some people, or potting a plant, or something equally gay. now fuck off. I'm trying to greive over here.

(you wouldn't believe how much this verbal beratement went relatively unoticed. even in a full church. but that was the seventh street district for ya. no respect for much of anything, even the most sacered. life didn't really allow for luxeries like respect, descency, or well... much of anything. that was life in one of the most crime ridden dens of poverty in Metro... in america for that matter. people here got used to the sights and sounds of crime, and evil. it was the sort of place that an expelled mexican drug lord could set up a very powerful and well organized crime syndicate. go almost completely unnoticed by a lazy and corrupt police force. raise a psycotic, black magic using, blood thirsty murderer as a son, then adventually die, gunned down by a jilted mistress. Then leave his limitless wicked empire to said Psycopathic offspring. it's also the kind of place were a vitually unknown punk, on the streets by himself since age eight, could commit suicide, die, then be resurected by the ghost of the same bloodline as the previously stated crime kingpin. in order to stop some horrific, demonic, supernatural evil plot for world domination. you know... one of THOOOSSE places, come on. it's a classic story, you must have heard it before... anyhoo... now that your better aquainted with the stage, lets get back to the cast.)

Tim> did you drink the laste of the milk?
El> how the fuck am i going to "drink" the last of anything. i'm not corporial. I'm a ghost remember.
Tim> a likely story! if you didn't then why is there no milk in the fridge.
El> tim... think carefully. did you ever, at anytime, actually own a carten of milk?

(there was a very long silence as tim raked his memory for edvidence of any milky stuff.)

Tim> come to think of it, i hate milk. i'd never have it in my fridge... huh? alright, answer this smart guy. if you didn't eat all my choco-fuggls then who did?
EL>Tim... theres no fucking such thing and 'Choco-fuggls'.

(tim gave a long, peircing stare at his goulish companion. then begain to slowly nod, very, very, slowly. like an agreeable mentall retarded bag boy at a super market.)

Tim> Well played elguapo... well played indeed.

(el's face fell foward into is open hands.)

El>the world is soooo fucked.

(meanwhile across town. as a flood of mourners swarm out the front doors of a acient cathedral, just off to the left, two shady looking figures stand talking of very dark dealings.)

priest no.1> i'm sorry i just don't think it's the best way to go about it.
Priest no.2> but what could an alterboy like more then a candy bar?
priest no.1> yes, but you see, it's not enough to just give them the candy. you must first find out what they're willing to do for it.

(Wait!!! wowowowoowowowoe!... that's quite enough that, i mean the shady figures off to the right of the crowed, to the right... jeezus... i'm going to wash my ears out with terpantine... sick FReaks!)

creepy minion no.1> yes xandor, but what of the forces of hell. certainly they will attempt to spoil your most evil, and ingenius plans.
Xandor> true... that is a valid point... yet... i don't know why, call it my 'six sence' if you must... but for some reason... i'm just not all that concerned.