Part two or “On being dead”

A couple of people commented on the beginning of this story, and a few more actually send me an email about it!!  Yay!

So, here is Part Two of Are You Dead Yet!!  (after this one there will only be one installment a week)

Part Two

On Being Dead

Kicking it in a black mini skirt, white silk top over a blood red cammie and blood red Didya Chew heels, Lisa headed out the door.  She had to hail a cab, which of course, being a ghoul, was not near as easy as it should be.  Finally giving up, Lisa whipped out her cell and dialed 1-800-333-7233 (ded-ride).  Bouncing from foot to foot, she impatiently waited for the long black limo (well, hearse) that was on its way to get her.  She couldn't afford to be late.  Everyone knew that More E. Poorbitch was a holy terror if you made her wait.

Of course, since the whole deal with Lucifer everyone knew there was nothing ‘holy’ about Ms. Poorbitch.  No one that could sell their soul to Lucifer and return to this realm was anything but unholy and damned.  More E. thought she was beating the odds when she scribbled her name in blood at the bottom of the scroll, but what she was doing was

Lisa stared off into space, a blank, empty look on her face.  But of course, being a ghoul and all it was pretty easy to have a blank look on her face.  It was the ‘I’m interested in more than eating your face’ look that gave her trouble!

Her ride finally pulled up and a gaunt, skeletal man garbed in an old time tuxedo jumped out and opened the back door for her.  Smiling vaguely, Lisa nodded once and climbed in.  This was luxury!!  She had never sat on real leather seats before, let alone heated leather seats! 

“Where to Madam?” A deep, reverberating voice asked.

“Ms. Poorbitch’s office please, corner of Cemetery Drive and Morticians Way. “  No one knew why the rich television talk show host insisted on having her plush offices in such a dismal area of town.  Lisa thought it might have something to do with fast food and having a makeup artist on call 24/7.

In a blink of an eye they were in front of a tall building with blackened windows.  Lisa sat quietly until the gaunt man opened the door and offered her his hand.  As she grasp the cold, bony appendage, Lisa realize who had driven her across town.

“Death?  Is that you?”  Lisa almost giggled.  She hadn't recognized him in his ‘work clothes’ but there was no mistaking the sparks that flew when the two of them touched.

“Don’t.  Just, don’t.”  Death looked directly into her eyes.  She heard his voice in her head, ‘ I’ll call you tonight.’

Shaking her head, she grinned and headed toward the door.  The door opened to reveal a very dark, very tall and very bald man.  The startling white designs tattooed on his face and shiny, bald head startled Lisa and she could only stare.  The man was striking in an Oh my Gods, What the Hell sort of way.

“Are you here to see Ms. Poorbitch?”  His voice was soft and sensual, the type of voice that made your panties moist.  But his eyes were cold and deadly, and his hand, as he reached for her, burned with the fires of Hell.

“Yes, please”, Lisa’s voice shook.  She took one small step forward before the inky darkness closed in.

Suddenly she could see again.  ‘Well that was fucking odd’, she thought.

“Are you okay, Miss?  Some people have a difficult time with the transition.”  The soft, sensual voice asked.  “I had a hard time myself at first.”

For some reason Lisa wondered what a ‘hard time’ with this tattooed man (if he was a man) would be like.  A silly grin played at her lips and the tip of her artificially wet tongue danced around like a drunken cobra.

“Miss?”

Realizing she couldn't afford to make a bigger fool of herself, Lisa blinked away the vision of white tattoos on dark skin.

“I’m fine.  It was a shock at first, but I’m okay now.”  Lisa realized her voice was trembling, not from the vertigo that still grabbed at her, but from the pictures that played in her mind. “Thank you for asking.  And yes, I’m here to see Ms. Poorbitch.”

Bowing slightly, the dark man in the dark suit turned silently and walked toward the elevator.  “This way please” was all he said.

Although there was plenty of room to get by the dark stranger, Lisa brushed against him as she entered the elevator.  The scent of wood smoke and charcoal caressed her nose.  She was about to ask him about his cologne when the doors closed.  A soft whirring sound signaled movement, although she felt as though she were just standing in a box waiting on….well, whatever you wait on if you are standing in a box.

Some song about Napoleon surrendering at Waterloo played softly as she stood staring at herself in the mirrored walls.  Who plays disco in an elevator?? 

The doors silently slid open revealing black carpets dotted with blood red furniture.  It looked like a bad impressionist painting.

“Are you just going to stand there?  Move your ass ghoul, I don’t have all day!” 

Lisa jumped.  The disembodied voice scraped her eardrums like claws scraping cement, causing her head to swivel left, then right, then left again.

“Hello?”  Lisa’s voice was softer than ever.  Even a flesh eating ghoul can be afraid.

“Get in here!  NOW!!” the smoke ravaged voice scraped.

“In WHERE?”  Lisa was losing control on her viper quick temper.  “I don’t see a HERE to get into!”

“At least you have some spunk!  Not bad for a dead girl!” A large, heavy breasted woman dressed in a tight, blood red spandex jumpsuit appeared from no where.  Her face resembled More E., but the body was like a slug slathered in crimson.  Ms. Poorbitch was a slender and well shaped, and this woman was definitely NOT.  “Come on in, I've been waiting for you for hours!”

Lisa was stunned.  This was THE More E. Poorbitch??  This ponderous woman dressed like a cheap street walker was the most powerful woman in television?

“Ah, okay”, Lisa followed the woman into a large office, her eyes locked on the substantial ass that twitched and squirmed like to large pigs were caught in a small spandex dress.

“Please have a seat Ms. Cryptland.”  The large woman motioned toward the most luscious looking chair Lisa had every laid eyes on.  “Would you like something to drink?  Or maybe a finger sandwich?”

Lisa glanced in the direction the woman was motioning, there on a silver tray lay at least two hands worth of finger sandwiches beside a large glass pitcher of brackish looking blood.

“Ummmm, no thank you, I’m good.”  Lisa didn't think she could drink even one sip of the curdled fluid, and the finger sandwiches looked to be less than fresh, some of the fingers were covered in pale yellow calluses. 

“I suppose you wonder why I wanted to meet you.”  She. said.  “I need someone that is willing to be trained to take my place on the show.  As you can tell, I am not doing well these days.  And before you ask, yes, I am More E. Poorbitch in the flesh.”

To Be Continued……

Well ya’ll, there it is, part two!!  Part three will be posted later in the week.