SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION

So I knew it would go down that way. They found the guy behind the dumpster just outside Margate, which is about five miles from Atlantic City. But they didn't exactly find him. They found the residue, the part left after the blue fire does its business. The cops did not know what to make of it. The medical examiner almost had a stroke. They were living through an episode of The X Files. Shit like this was not supposed to happen. But it did happen. And they shut it up. The wife was told, strictly off the record of course, that her son-of-a-bitch, low-life huzzzbandd was a victim of spontaneous human combustion. She got a lawyer (another scum bag). She got a doctor, a friend of her hubby's. And they couldn't  find nothing different. Still she would not give up. That's when some big guy from the casino operator's commision or some place contacted her. They don't appreciate crazy stories like that. It tends to scare the marks away. Sends 'em to Philly, or Delaware, or some flea bitten bingo parlor or something. So they tell her to shut up and if she does, they will give her a check for sevenhundred and fifty thousand dollars. Now her hubby was worth some money. But three quarters of a million dollars for nothing is still three quarters of a million dollars for nothing. So she shut up. She shut up real good. And nobody actually suspected me. I was the one who came back to the table. I was the one who fiddled with the melted ice cream in my dish, just like I was really eatin' it. It's not like they did not also find human urine behind that dumpster. Hell, lots of guys pissed back there. And it was too old. They couldn't tell who it dripped out of.. So what we had was just another case of that pesky spontaneous human combustion. You gotta be careful child. There's a lot a that shit goin' 'round. What did I do? I stayed put for a couple weeks. Then I left. Who was gonna stop me? My rich boyfriend? Look, I love him and all, but what the hell could he do? And he knew that. He knows what I am. After a few days, he came back too. So I wandered around the city picking  up on things. I can sense things real good. Good as any of them Pineys we had with us. I knew where Jonathon was . I sniffed out that Papa dude. For a while I was gonna  hook up with him. But I also detected the stink of that little Annie.  And I did not want to be a nurse maid to some bitchy, little, dead, white girl. The hell with that. So I hung around the old shipyard. Those guys in the black suits thought I was some kind of street walker. But I schooled them real fast. Showed 'em my fangs. Let 'em feel 'em too. Told 'em I knew they had a vampire in there. Said I had something to tell them. So the next thing you know, I'm relaxing in  a jacuzzi, when this old, fat putrid lookin' white man comes rollin' in. I look at him and it's like I'm gonna go crazy, 'cause here is the guy from a one hundred dollar bill asking me if I want an extra towel. Yeah I took that towel. And damned if he didn't watch me dry off. I asked him. I said - Who the hell are you, Ben Franklin? He just smiled and belched and I knew that he was. We all heard stories about him. That he never died and all. Oh, he was no vampire. this was something else. I heard those tales. But I never paid much attention to them. What  do I care what the bastid who invented bifocals does? But now it seems he has invented a lot more than that. And in the nights to follow, I was able to help him very, very much........