(Originally published in Bare Bones #3/4, Spring 1999)
"Somebody put another slug in the jukebox and the scratchy record came to life again. A girl's plaintive, whining voice told of wax heartbreak. Cassidy hated the song. He hated the cheap bar. He detested being there in the first place. But most of all he bathed (sic) himself tonight."
"He saw the weazened man's yellow teeth glaring nakedly and obscenely from behind the leering smirk which creased the death's head skull."