PROLOGUE: SCAVENGER
I eat the dead. I mean, long dead.
Are you repulsed yet? I betcha you are. You’re probably picturing me as some sort of hideous bug-eyed thing right now, maybe a big, squishy talking maggot. Go on, you can admit it, I’ve heard the worst of it already. Well, pal, it’s just who I am and what I do, and you know what else? I dig it. Let me tell you, you ain’t gonna go starving when your lunch makes most people lose theirs. I like to think of it as a, whaddyacallit, vital service to society: if it wasn’t for me, pal, you’d probably be swimmin’ in corpses. Well, maybe.
I mean, sure, plenty of critters get eaten before they reach my tolerance level. And most decent, respectable folk, they get buried, or burned, or even shot into space if they’re particularly fancy. Critters ain’t always eaten in time, though, and… well… not all folks are decent or respectable. Especially after I’m good and done with ‘em.
In fact, it was just the sort of indecent, unrespectable types that this story is all about. It’s a funny little story, really. Well, if your idea of a laugh is a bunch of dead guys, a bunch of stupid guys shootin’ at each other and becomin’ the dead guys, and plain old me wrapped up in the middle of it ’cause God ‘n his drinking buddies were probably bored. I suppose you could see it as unfunny. Even morbid. I’ve heard the worst of it already, though, and honestly? The more you’ve been around, the worse ya heard.. the funnier everything ya see, everything ya hear, really gets.
