The story of a Lonesome ol'Jerome

138- The terrible twosome- an unlikely dynamic duo

*Owen's POV*

"Get up, cocksucker!" What?!? I sat up, startled, hitting my head on the cot above mine. Abruptly, I laid back down, and peered around me, blearily searching for the intruder that had shaken me out of sleep. Oh, fuck. It was Z...

"Z? Is... what?" He looked excited. Oh shit, this couldn't be good.

"Get the fuck up! We have an appointment to keep, faggot!" Z grabbed me by the arm and manually convinced me to get out of bed.

"Alright, alright! What's going on? Can I get dressed, I'm just in my shorts, man?" Z shoved a mug in my hands.

"Drink, it should help you wake up." I nodded gratefully and foolishly took a swallow before realizing it was... goldschlager? I forced myself to swallow, afraid to show weakness in front of a madman. Was coffee really too old-fashioned? Wasn't it a bit early yet? What the fuck time was it anyway? And I seriously needed to talk to Z about the use of homophobic slurs if he wanted to start hanging out, if that was what this was...

Speaking of which, why was Z here? He had his established group of friends, I hardly fit the mold. It probably had something to do with Gwyn, then, and that made me nervous. Things were going well with her... and Z had said something about an appointment?

The last thing I needed was Z threatening Andy, telling him not to break Gwyn's heart. That wouldn't do any good, that sort of thing can't be predicted or controlled. Both Z and Andy were testosterone-y dudes that could blow a fuse, and doubtless they'd end up coming to blows, Gwyn would surely walk in on me trying to stop them, and then she'd die of a heart attack. She'd probably think we'd come back as zombies and were trying to eat Andy. Nah... Gwyn was too smart, I had been cremated, I wasn't sure about genius gutterpunk over there-

"It'll put hair on your chest, I thought I'd pack goldschlager in honor of the occasion, and all." Z nodded sagely. It occurred to me that I wasn't really a huge fan of excessive body hair, but given my current mood, perhaps another swig wouldn't hurt. I contemplated the gold flakes in the mug for a moment, remembering times with Gwyn at Oberlin.

I faked a third swallow and a brief wince. "Hold this for a tic, I'll grab my clothes, alright?" Fortunately, Z behaved predictably, and finished the mug for me.

---

Soon thereafter, I found myself following Z through the streets, and learned that I was walking towards my inevitable doom. Given my company, I wasn't terribly surprised. Z was even more insane than I had thought. I had to give it to him, he had the cajones of a blue whale. Holy shit, go big or go home, I guess.

Z explained, very nonchalantly, that we were on our way to talk to the Devil, as in THE DEVIL, Lucifer, Osiris, Hades, Mictlantecuhtli, Pluto, Erlik, the Morningstar, Aita, Yeomra, the Dark Father, Daebyeol, whatever the fuck you want to call him. As if that weren't bad enough, Z clearly had some sort of plan he intended to enact once we were engaged in aforementioned conversation. "Shit, I'm not going to blackmail him, and it's not called extorting either, because that is like, when you do shit involving money... what the fuck is it called when you just convince someone to do what you want, like, using cleverness? Well, fuck it- you'll see. It'll be fine. Trust me, just don't be a pussy, little bitch."

Z gave me a lively punch to the shoulder by way of reassurance. Well, fuck it. I was on my way, with a lunatic, to attempt to coerce, threaten, or somehow force the hand of the motherfucking devil. No sweat. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

I looked at Z. "So I assume this has something to do with Gwyn?" Z nodded, but seemed reluctant to elaborate. "You'd better have a serious ace up your fucking sleeve, is all I'm saying, dude. I mean, if we're about to try and play hardball with the goddamned devil-" Z stopped walking and looked at me.

"Holy shit! That was a fucking great pun! 'Goddamned devil!' See, you're not such a fucking stick in the mud after all! Now, I know what you're thinking, that's just christianity, you know, but it was still funny, dude!" Z laughed, handcuffs and metal objects clinking on his leather jacket. I decided not to mention that Christianity was by far not the only religion where a monotheistic god had cursed the lord of the underworld, and instead chuckled with him. As Z doubled over in laughter, I watched carefully to make sure any aces didn't fall out of either sleeve that we might need later.