Shoutouts go to Lori Gray Skies, Ajac, Kalisona, and fledge, as well as many apologies. I also just realized that my Jesus looks has an uncanny resemblance to Bob Marley. Weird. Anyway let's get on to what you're all waiting for.

"Now let me understand this," said Judas after a moment as Scratch reluctantly downed his Blistered Heiney, spluttering and spewing his discontent as he did so. "You want me to kill the boss's son."

"That's about the size of it," responded Scratch between dry heaves. His lengthy time on the surface and in the modern world had clearly softened him. In the dark ages he ingested blood, intestines and, on one desperate occasion, to which he didn't readily admit, urine. But now he was barely able to suppress his gag reflex. Though to be fair, there was no mixture in the whole of existence, or Los Angeles, more revolting than a Blistered Heiney (1).

"And you would want this... why?" queried Judas. "You're the False Prophet. The antichrist was supposed to be your masterwork."

"Yeah," belched Scratch, tasting vomit. "And the kid blew his chance. His fault, not mine. And now I've made it big without the help of Mr. Big and his squirming little larva. But now with that wench Babs on the prowl, all my enterprises are being threatened. I don't want that and I'm sure with some convincing you won't want that."

"No thank you," said Judas with a tone of finality.

"Why the hell - er heck - not?" protested Scratch.

"It's alright," said passing succubus waitress soothingly. "You can say that down here."

"Two reasons," answered the Iscariot blandly holding up two fingers. "One: I'm stuck in Hell, even if I was willing to put my ass on the line for you I'd never get through the Gates. I'm something of the Great Lord's favorite down here since that affair with You-Know-Who. And two," he continued, shaking the remaining finger for emphasis. "My rates have gone up from thirty pieces of silver. Way up. I doubt you could afford my services."

"You forget who you're talking to," smirked Scratch. "I know every curse, hex, jinx, and no-no word ever created (2). I've studied and taught necromancy from and to (respectively) the masters of the art. Getting you out of Hell will be child's play."

"Whoop-de-do!" coughed Judas, after downing his eighth Blistered Heiney. "But suppose I agree, and you get me out, and I kill the kid, I'll just end up back here anyway. So really, where's my incentive?"

Scratch leaned over the table conspiratorially. "What if I told you I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy who can get you into Heaven?"

The Iscariot stared at the immortal blankly for a moment before the False Prophet continued, "I can arrange it so that when you die - again - you will be instantly admitted to paradise. There is one catch though."

"And what is that?" asked Judas as blandly as he could manage. He had been in the Pit for so long that he had forgotten what hope felt like. Now the sensation he felt welling up inside him was either that long-lost emotion or all those Blistered Heineys finally catching up to him.

"The only catch is," continued the False Prophet. "Is that you have to die a martyr's death."

"That sounds unpleasant."

"Quite," agreed Scrath. "However, the rewards will be great. Seventy-two virgins for you to enjoy for all eternity."

Judas tried to keep his face impassive, tried to look noncommittal so as not to appear too eager, but Scratch wasn't fooled. Working with politicians, lawyers, and actors for millennia, he knew how to read people, he knew what signs to look for, the little signals through which people give themselves away. He knew what Judas' answer was before he did.

"So do we have a deal?" asked Scratch, giving the Iscariot his best salesman's smile and extending his hand.

Judas hesitated for a moment. But only a moment.

- - -

Adam and Jay sat side-by-side on the big rock in the middle of the quarry as the thirteen-year-old related his story to the long-haired gentleman. Jay nodded at all the right moments and strummed his guitar with his bandaged hands. It always amazed Adam how the man was able to multitask like that. But then Jay was able to amaze Adam since the day they met.

It was not long after that affair with the Horsepersons when Adam and Dog were racing for the safety of the Pit with stolen green apples in tow when they heard music emanating from the old quarry. Their pilfered fruit forgotten both boy and dog went to investigate and there they saw a dark-skinned gentleman, with hair done up into dozens of tiny braids, who dressed in a fashion strikingly similar to Pepper's mother, placidly plucking at his guitar and humming happily to himself.

Dog growled and backed away from the sight and no amount of coaxing on Adam's part could get the shaking and whining mongrel to venture any closer to the strange man. Adam, though he saw no reason to be afraid of the man, was nonetheless cautious and watched the man from a distance.

At last the man stopped his tune and looked up at Adam, smiling invitingly.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Hallo," returned the boy.

"How are you?"

"Fine."

"I notice you have a few apples."

"Yup."

"Mind if I have one. I love apples."

"Alright."

After that they sat together and talked over the apples. Adam found the man who introduced himself only as Jay to be kind, wise, and very funny (3), but his smile always seemed to carry the weight of sadness and Adam wondered why such a nice man was always so sad.

"...and now she won't even talk to me," finished Adam.

"Hmm," answered Jay.

"So what should I do?" asked the thirteen-year-old.

"Well," said the guitar-player. "The way I see it, the two of you have upped the stakes of your relationship."

"But she said the kiss was just..."

"A kiss is just a kiss when you kiss your mother," cut in Jay, frowning gravely. "A kiss is just a kiss when your Aunt Marge comes for a visit and pinches your cheeks and plants a big slobbery wet one on you - by the way you should really call to thank her for the check you received in your most recent birthday card. But a kiss between a boy and a girl - that's never just a kiss. Now neither of you know what to think of the other and you're both scared."

"So what do I do?" Adam asked again.

"Change is never easy," said Jay sagely. "But it is necessary. The two of you have been friends forever. I think you can work past this kiss. When Pepper's ready to talk to you, she'll talk to you, until then, just be there for her until she's ready."

Adam smiled, "Thanks Jay, you're the best."

"Any time Adam," said Jay returning the smile. "By the way, do you know what day it is?"

"Oh no!" cried Adam as horrifying realization dawned upon him. "School starts tomorrow! I gotta go! Sorry Jay!"

With that Adam dashed off in the direction of his home and Jay watched him go smiling sadly.

"No Adam," he sighed. "I'm sorry."

I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY YOU KNOW, said a voice like a shallow grave. The man who called himself Jay turned to see Death standing behind him.

"Sorry," said the guitarist. "I'm ready now."

JUST BECAUSE YOU DEFEATED ME DOESN'T MAKE ME YOUR CHAUFFEUR, said the Grim Reaper indignantly (4).

Jay just shook his head and smiled, watching Adam vanish into the distance.

REGRETS? asked Death.

"I like him," said Jay simply.

YOU LIKE EVERYONE, said the entity in a tone as dry as rotted bones. THAT'S YOUR PROBLEM.

"Perhaps," smiled Jay sadly. "But I can't help myself. I am as my Father made me."

Death regarded him through hollow sockets for a moment or two before saying, ARE YOU READY TO GO OR NOT?

The Son of Man rolled his eyes and followed Death to the House of Waiting. There was work to do...

1.) a vile concoction made from the pus of ganglion cysts, extract of foot fungus and a few other items that are too unpleasant to describe. Despite its obvious unpleasantness, it's the closest thing hell has to an alcoholic beverage so it's quite popular down there.

2.) In part because he was present at their invention.

3.) He still went into stitches whenever he thought of that story Jay told about the time he went golfing with his father and a man named Moses.

4.) The Triumph of Christ over Death has been alluded to in every variation of the Bible to date. But it is only fully chronicled in the Buggre Alle This Bible Matthew 81-90 as follows:

...and Lo, the Grim Angel of Death did beckon to the Lamb but the Lamb refused to go. Thus did Grim Death, feeling sporting that day did engage Holy Christ in contest. Holy Christ agreed on the condition that he choose the challenge, to which Death agreed. The Christ then did produce a unit of papyrus and fold it over and over until it took on the shape of a triangle. He then instructed Grim Death to hold his thumbs together and his pointers erect to which he obliged. Thus it was that with an almighty flick of the finger, Christ's Holy Paper Football did sail between Death's gaunt fingers smacked him smartly in the forehead.

"You lose," was the Christ's decree.

The passage is the subject of much theological debate not only because it suggested Jesus had a playful side but also because football - let alone paper football - wasn't introduced into that region until the late twentieth century.

I'm afraid that's all I have for you right now. Again I'm very sorry for the wait, but between work and my other projects I haven't been able to make much time for this story. I'll try to do better this year. But for now, R/R and Happy Holidays one and all! Shibui out!