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Luna was getting to be a pig, a regular vamp-tramp. She killed everyday. Not 'culled.' Notice, I did not say 'culled.' Visions had nothing to do with it for her. She went out. She wanted the money. She wanted the wallets. She wanted the watches and the jewelry, so she killed a fat pig and she took them. Papa knew. Baylah knew. But they didn't want no big confrontation so they kept their malf shut. Besides, Jonathon and his bride were off on their quest. He was the religious one. And with him out of the way, what did they care.
So every day when the sun went down she'd rise up and decorate herself like a regular dog's dinner. Classy, just barely, with a lot of flash. You know the look...Malibu meets Snookie. Then she'd go out and roll some big mouth, pinky-ringed, boarderline thief, like a mercenary extortionist MD, or a 'hand-in-the-till' accountant and have a good time. They got plenty of bars where people like that can mush up with each other. Luna was just a low down greasy whore. She'd love 'em up, kill 'em real good. Grab all the cash and bling-bling. Ain't no regular body to analyze when it's all done. Just a lot of sticky ooze. Hotel managers around town starting to notice. They don't want no bad publicity. The cops can't stop it. Luna changes her 'look' all the time. They never get the same image twice on them hotel videos. It's hard to identify what's left smeared all over them sheets. Nobody wants to scare tourists and conventioneers away. So nobody says a God damned thing. And Miss Luna builds up quite the treasure trove. Most she converts into cash. She already has one guy (a familiar) workin' directly for her. How much is she worth? First you gotta realize this has all only been goin' on for a few weeks. So when you add up the gold Rolexes and the cash and everything else, it comes to just under a hundred thousand dollars. That's a good start. But this is one dangerous game she's playing. Let me tell you. Somebody gonna stick a fork in that greedy bitch.
And Doctor Franklin knows all about it. He's got her all wired up. But she don't got no clue. You should see him, sittin' on his shiny, little electric scooter, all dressed up in his red Phillies tee shirt and matching sweatshorts, peering into that flickering screen. I don't know where he gets the video from, but he gets it. Maybe there's some real tiny miniature thing planted right in her eye? And you think he's gonna let her get picked up? I don't think so. He don't want nobody diggin' up all them chips outta her flesh and tracin' 'em back to him. The Anti-Enchantment-Bureau likes to keep a low profile. So I figure it's only a matter of time before he smash her down (maybe give her a nice sunbath), or pulls her back in and sets her up in his zoo-like freak show...Ladies and gentlemen! The mermaid hag! The full-blooded Jersey Devil! The cold-hearted vampirina!..Pregnant wimmen and pissy-pants wimpie bastards to the back!.... And you know what? That can't happen fast enough for me. I don't even know why I'm still telling you this. Zebulon wants to waft over to the Old World and see what Jonathon's up to. I got a feeling he won't make straight for Jerusalem. That boy gonna stop in Spain. That boy wanna see the old neighborhood. Maybe take a run up to the Tin Islands, Britian, I think they call it these days, and relive the nights of his yoof. And some a them frou-frou blood-suckers they got over in them places know he's comin'.
Wait til you see what they got planned................
So every day when the sun went down she'd rise up and decorate herself like a regular dog's dinner. Classy, just barely, with a lot of flash. You know the look...Malibu meets Snookie. Then she'd go out and roll some big mouth, pinky-ringed, boarderline thief, like a mercenary extortionist MD, or a 'hand-in-the-till' accountant and have a good time. They got plenty of bars where people like that can mush up with each other. Luna was just a low down greasy whore. She'd love 'em up, kill 'em real good. Grab all the cash and bling-bling. Ain't no regular body to analyze when it's all done. Just a lot of sticky ooze. Hotel managers around town starting to notice. They don't want no bad publicity. The cops can't stop it. Luna changes her 'look' all the time. They never get the same image twice on them hotel videos. It's hard to identify what's left smeared all over them sheets. Nobody wants to scare tourists and conventioneers away. So nobody says a God damned thing. And Miss Luna builds up quite the treasure trove. Most she converts into cash. She already has one guy (a familiar) workin' directly for her. How much is she worth? First you gotta realize this has all only been goin' on for a few weeks. So when you add up the gold Rolexes and the cash and everything else, it comes to just under a hundred thousand dollars. That's a good start. But this is one dangerous game she's playing. Let me tell you. Somebody gonna stick a fork in that greedy bitch.
And Doctor Franklin knows all about it. He's got her all wired up. But she don't got no clue. You should see him, sittin' on his shiny, little electric scooter, all dressed up in his red Phillies tee shirt and matching sweatshorts, peering into that flickering screen. I don't know where he gets the video from, but he gets it. Maybe there's some real tiny miniature thing planted right in her eye? And you think he's gonna let her get picked up? I don't think so. He don't want nobody diggin' up all them chips outta her flesh and tracin' 'em back to him. The Anti-Enchantment-Bureau likes to keep a low profile. So I figure it's only a matter of time before he smash her down (maybe give her a nice sunbath), or pulls her back in and sets her up in his zoo-like freak show...Ladies and gentlemen! The mermaid hag! The full-blooded Jersey Devil! The cold-hearted vampirina!..Pregnant wimmen and pissy-pants wimpie bastards to the back!.... And you know what? That can't happen fast enough for me. I don't even know why I'm still telling you this. Zebulon wants to waft over to the Old World and see what Jonathon's up to. I got a feeling he won't make straight for Jerusalem. That boy gonna stop in Spain. That boy wanna see the old neighborhood. Maybe take a run up to the Tin Islands, Britian, I think they call it these days, and relive the nights of his yoof. And some a them frou-frou blood-suckers they got over in them places know he's comin'.
Wait til you see what they got planned................
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