#sanderssideshunamau

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

chapter thirteen is here. this one contains Romile, and plenty of fluff

Chapter Thirteen: Out of Hell by Skillet      

Virgil fluttered nervously past Roman for the third time. Roman watched as his nephew peered out each window and retreated back to the couch. Virgil drummed his fingers against his laptop and chewed the band aid on his stationary hand.

               “You ok Billie Stylish?” Roman asked, sitting down beside him.

               “Sure. I’m fine.” Virgil didn’t look up.

               “It’s going to be ok.” Roman put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Payton has laughed his last laugh. And he will spend the rest of his days being beaten up in prison.”

               “But what if Payton accuses you guys of being child rapists or something? Then he’s going to win because everyone always believes him, and he’ll have ruined your lives. Or he’ll lose anyway, but still manage to ruin the three of you, and I have to live with the constant guilt that this is all my fault for getting you into this. And Uncle Patton and Uncle Logan are going to be quiet about the whole thing while silent resentment grows, because everything was fine until I showed up. Or worse, they’re not, and they’re just gonna forgive me for bringing this plague down on them.”

               “That’s quite the soliloquy.” Roman patted him on the head. “And that’s not going to happen. Payton can accuse us of whatever he likes, but I know a secret.”

               “You can blackmail him?” Virgil jolted up.

               “No, it’s like this. You remember how the bastard always told you that people always side with the adult?”

               “Yes, that’s why I’m worried.”

               “Well, first of all it’s a fallacy. Secondly, what is true is that people tend to side against the man who is in prison for trying to murder a child.”

               “He wasn’t trying to kill me.” Virgil’s heart audibly sank. “Was he?”

               Roman leaned back in surprise. Payton probably hated Virgil, at the very least he didn’t love him. And the viper had put him in the hospital more than once. Yet, Virgil was still hurt to think that Payton wanted him dead. Why should he care what Payton wanted?

               “I don’t know.” Roman hugged him. “He trapped you in a burning building. If he wasn’t trying to kill you, then it just means he’s not a murderer per say. But at the very least, it means that he didn’t care if you died. And that’s not your fault. That’s on him.”

               “I’m sick of being upset about this.” Virgil made a sound halfway between a scream and a sob. “I know he doesn’t care about me. Why is it still a gut punch? Why do I even still care at all?”

               “Humans feel.” Roman rubbed his back softly. “And feelings never make sense.”

               “I hate it.”

               “Come on, let’s go do something to take your mind off things.” Roman patted him on the shoulders. “It’s about time you got to be a kid.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Virgil chewed on his hoodie strings as the crowd gathered around the tour guide.

               “Sacred of ghosts, Sweeny toddler?” Roman teased, ruffling his hair.

               “I ain’t afraid of no ghost.” Virgil sneered.

               “No, but I bet they’re terrified of you. We might not even see any with you around.”

               Virgil laughed softly. Two hundred uncle points. Roman put his arm around him and they walked up to the guide.

               “Two spots in your tour please.” Roman said as he produced the fairs with a great flourish.

               “Oh, you again.” The guide exhaled. “And you have a kid with you. Great.”

               The guide took the money and Roman contentedly fell into step with Virgil in tow.

               “He doesn’t like you.” Virgil taunted. “Did you steal his boyfriend?”

               “Virgil, a man does not steal a life partner, nor does he win one. He woos one.”

               “Woo. Woo.” Virgil added with a straight face and a straighter voice.

               “And the tour guide simply doesn’t appreciate me practicing my improv while I’m on his tours.” Roman explained. “Although, he is a very nice fellow. We both work as nude models at the portraiture class. He’s straight, so I had no chances.”

               “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Virgil mimicked.

               “You’ve been watching a lot of sit-coms?”

               “I can’t sleep some nights, so I just YouTube deep dive. And now I know how to make a life like moose out of old newspaper.”

               “Chamomile tea. Try some before bed, or warm milk.”

               “You make it sound like conspiracy theories aren’t good for me.” Virgil grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Did you know that there was this one lady who made her victims into soap, and she used the soap. But the worst part was she also turned them into cake, and she ate the cake.”

               “Remind me to get you some video games, something less… horrible.”

               “I thought video games cause violence.” Virgil smirked.

               “Sure, and vaccines cause autism. Pencils cause bad handwriting, spoons cause fat people and gays in media cause gay people.”

               “Yeah, I’m gonna murder a bunch of people because I’m playing Pokémon.” Virgil sneered, damn he was good at it. “It has nothing to do with the school system that does nothing to stop bulling, or the extremely abusive dad y’all sent me home to every day. It was the video games, Linda.”

               “What kind of Pokémon did you have?” Roman changed the subject away from Payton.

               “I had a Mew, a Haunter and a Psyduck. And a psychic type Evee.” Virgil sighed. “I went with the mind powered ones and all the ghost types.”

               “That sounds fun.” Roman beamed, finally one nice thing in this little boy’s life.

               “My dad broke my computer, and any other device that had my game on it.” Virgil looked at the ground. “I think they starved to death.”

               Why is it that whenever something good happens you show up to ruin it? You snake in the machine, I hate you. Roman silently scripted a call out letter to Payton.

               “Hey, it’s Dr. Picani.” Virgil derailed his train of thought.

               Roman looked over and spotted the familiar blond-haired doctor now wearing a brown T-shirt that displayed the Scooby Doo gang and khaki cargo shorts. More importantly though was the fact that his now exposed arms showed off an array of tattoos. Roman rubbed his eyes, no way. No way did this man, this doctor have tattoos. No, it was far more likely that he had a twin brother, and that was who they saw now.

               “He’s got ink.” Virgil squeaked in awe. “Let’s go say hi to him.”

               Virgil grabbed his hand and darted towards the doctor. He was alarmingly strong for a kid who only weighed a hundred pounds.

               “Virge, wait.” Roman said in a hushed voice, pulling the emo back. “I’m not sure we should.”

               “Are you a-scared of the doctor?” Virgil laughed.

               “No, he was in my still life class last week…”

               “OOOOOO, you’re embarrassed to talk to a guy who has nudes of you.” He was incorrigible. “Maybe if you ask nice, he’ll give the pictures back. Or are you afraid he’ll post it on social media?”

               “I’m not embarrassed for me, he ended up getting really upset and I consoled him afterwards.” Roman explained. “I’m worried if I talk to him it’ll put him in an awkward position.”

               “SUUUREEEE.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Cause the dude who strips down and poses isn’t the guy in the awkward position.”

               “Why do you suddenly turn into a kid now?”

               “What’s the problem?” Virgil shrugged. “So he got upset, big deal. I cried in front of him a few times and I’m not embarrassed to talk to him. If you refused to talk to anyone who’s seen you naked or who’s gotten frustrated with painting, you’d have to be a hermit. Just like if I avoided everyone who has seen me crying about something, I wouldn’t be able to leave my room.”

               “You’re stunningly sharp.”

               “Hey! Dr. Picani!” Virgil yelled, which Roman didn’t think he could do, as he waved over to the doctor.

               Picani waved back and approached them. His legion of tattoos becoming clearer. Unsurprisingly, if anything about this could be considered unsurprising, most of his tattoos were from cartoons. The one that struck Roman in particular was the image of Lady Rainacorn wrapped around his left arm from shoulder to wrist. His right arm displayed a group portrait of Clifford, Courage, Scooby Doo, Blue, some green dog that looked like a stuffed toy who he didn’t recognize and Goddard.[1]  

               “Hey Virgil.” Emile greeted happily. “Hi Roman.”

               “Awkward indeed.” Virgil looked over at Roman with raised eyebrows.

               “Good evening Emile.” Roman added cordially. “Are you out ghost hunting as well?”

               “Yeah, I figured I should get out. And this sounded like a nifty idea. What brings you to this haunted cul-de-sac?”

               “We live here.” Virgil said smoothly with an air of villainy. “Well, lived here. We’re the ghosts that haunt these streets.”

               “Aren’t you the cutest thing?” Emile ruffled Virgil’s hair. “It’s nice to see you so excited.”

               Virgil scowled at the sidewalk as his face turned red. The tour guide started walking and they followed him in quite precession. Roman rubbed his hands in anticipation of their first stop. Now he had two people to impress.

               “I didn’t know you had ink.” Virgil pressed Emile. “And I really didn’t know you had that much.”

               “Yeah,” Emile looked at his arms. “I’ve got a couple of books worth of it. Lady Rainacorn is new. I think it’s healing up nicely.”

               “Did it hurt?”

               “Not as bad as my first one did.”

               “What was the first one?”

               “It was actually Clifford,” Emile showed them the portrait. “I got it to cover up a dog bite.”

               “Really?” Virgil leaned back in surprise.

               “Yeah, he was old and sore, and I tried to pet him. Still got me good.”

               “That’s awful.” Roman added.  

                “It’s ok.” Emile shrugged. “He was a good boy, he just got old.”

               “Alright our first stop.” The guide had everyone gather around. “This building stands abandoned due to the ghosts that torment anyone who dares try to live in it. The house was built atop an Indian burial ground. The spirits buried here cannot rest because of the desecration to their sacred place.”

               “That is wholly inaccurate.” Roman added loudly. “The tormentors of the building are remnants of the poor souls who died their when it was used as an unlicensed hospital in the eighties. The proprietors mismanaged their facility horridly and would even go so far as to steal supplies from the actual hospital. They would go on to receive more unwelcomed visitors from beyond in the form of men and women who died as a result of their theft. Malpractice insurance really didn’t cover that one.”

               “Really?” The guide looked bored. “Who are you tonight Roman?”

               “Dr. Roman Brown. Paranormal expert.” Roman put his arm around Virgil. “I’m here with my ward.”

               “How’d you get a kid?” The guide expressed genuine confusion and revulsion.

               “I’ve had Virgil for a time now, I caught him trying to pick my pocket. Poor creature lived on the streets.”

               “Really?”

               “Yes really.” Virgil retorted. “I was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a Catholic church. But they believed that I had demon’s blood in my veins and sent me out into the streets to fend for myself when I was four.”

               “You’re half demon?”

               “Maybe.” Virgil shrugged. “Who’s to say? All I know is that there are a lot of things that keep trying to pull me into hell.”

               “Really?” The guide scoffed.

               “Just last month a hand shot up out of the dirt and grabbed my ankle.” Virgil continued flawlessly. “I fought it as it tried to drag me under and broke my foot in the process.”

               Virgil pointed at his walking boot. The crowd murmured in astonishment. Roman’s heart swelled with pride.

               Defeated, the guide took them to the next stop.

               “Virgil, that was beautiful.” Roman said quietly. “The way you flawlessly wove your cast into the narrative as proof was inspired. I’m so proud of you, I may weep.”

               “I got good at lying.” Virgil looked at his feet. “I learned from the best.”

               “Never mind Payton.” Emile patted him on the shoulder. “You can just have fun making up stories tonight. Be a kid.”

               “Are those doctor’s orders?” Virgil looked up at him.

               “They are now.” Emile stood up straight.

               Roman noticed an indent in Emile’s shirt. It looked like a stud in his navel. Did he have piercings as well? Who was this man?

               “Here we have the next stop, it may not look like much, but Kim and Jim’s Bar and Grill was built on top of the remains of the old mortuary and is plagued with strange events to this day.” The guide explained, you could tell he hated this job.

               “Yes,” Emile chimed in. “There was a gruesome series of experiments in the mortuary and now the woods are inhabited with the results. Terrifying amalgamations made of severed limbs. Hands attached to feet, heinous arm-leg monsters and every other combination that doesn’t include a face. Stripped of their identities they roam around helplessly.”

               “And at night, when the drunks go home,” Roman added. “You can hear them crying. They’re in so much pain.”

               The audience and guide looked at them, baffled.

               “Of course.” Virgil suddenly said, gesturing towards Emile. “Dr. Emile Vankmen. Parapsychologist. A true credit to his field.”

               There were many nods. The tourists didn’t really care for a believable story, they wanted a good story. And by the sniped snakes of a gorgon salon, that is what they were going to get.

               They went through the stops, trumping the guide’s every tale with a gruesome murder, demonic happening or cartoon plot line. The crowd was eating it up and Virgil was teaming with energy. He seemed to be absorbing it and converting it into power.

               “Virgil is having fun.” Emile laughed.

               “I know,” Roman beamed. “We uncles know how to let one become a kid.”

               “Are you related to the other two?”

               “No, we’re just especially close.” Roman recalled fondly. “I cheated for Patton for a month while he was dealing with his mother’s death. Of course, without him knowing.”

               “How did you do that?” Emile looked confused and slightly impressed.

               “I wrote a few essays in character as him.” Roman brushed it off as if it were nothing. “I’m always up for a chance to practice my vocation.”

               “Virgil, don’t let him cheat for you.” Emile looked down at where Virgil was.

               Emphasis on was, because he was gone. Roman felt instant panic. He had lost Virgil! He had lost a traumatized child with anxiety! Virgil was probably terrified! What if he was hurt?!

               “Where did he go!!??” Roman yelped. “He was just here? Virgil!?”

               “Ok, ok.” Emile held up a shaking hand. “Maybe he walked to the front of the group.”

               Through their panic they heard Virgil scream, then the tour guide and a few tourists scream.

               The worst had happened! Roman ran to the front of the line and saw Virgil on the ground laughing while the guide stared at him irately.

               “Virgil!” Roman grabbed him. “Don’t do that again! I thought I lost you!”

               “Sorry.” Virgil relented rather easily. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I, I hadn’t considered that you’d notice I was gone.”

               “Well, I did.” Roman walked back to their place in the group, holding Virgil’s hand. “I want you to stay where I can see you. It’s dark and you don’t know the neighborhood, something might have happened to you.”

               Virgil was quiet as he looked at the sidewalk in confusion. He was probably wondering why no one was hitting him. In fact, he was probably wondering why Roman cared what happened to him. Roman sighed, he didn’t know how to un-traumatize a kid, all he really had to go off was how Logan had been after everything came out. And Virgil and Logan were drastically different characters with very different abusers. So, that wasn’t much of a comparison.

               “Virgil.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled. But you really scared me, and I don’t want you wandering around where I can’t see you.”

               “You call that yelling?” Virgil looked confused. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry.”

               “Ok. Let’s continue our tour.” Roman wrapped his arm around him. “But now you have to hold my hand.”

               “Whatever.” Virgil rolled his eyes and smiled.

               “And to this day, no one knows the cause of the building’s collapse.” The guide pointed at a vacant spot where a house had once been.

               “Actually, that one was us.” Emile interrupted, feigning embarrassment. “It was how we found out about Virgil’s powers.”

               “He has powers now?” The guide raised an eyebrow.

               “Yep,” Virgil picked up. “Demonic powers made the whole building implode. I can control them much better now.”

               “He had a nightmare that manifested itself into physical form and started haunting us.” Emile continued. “It picked us off one by one until only Virgil was left. Last thing I remember is just… blackness. No sound, no light. I don’t think I could even feel anything, then next thing I knew, I was just back and there was no more building. Not even rubble, just what you see now, with Virgil standing in the middle of it.”

               “Yes, I remember that night.” Roman joined in. “A hideous creature started roaming the halls. It was six feet tall, completely black and had no face. Well, no face on its head. But it’s chest. Right where men have a navel, it had a mouth. And when it opened that horrid maw a vertical slit went up to its pencil thin neck and showed a ribcage. A ribcage broken down the middle that it used as teeth. A long red tongue cleaned saliva and blood off the jagged ribs as it drooled in anticipation of its next meal.”

               “And the smell.” Virgil added solemnly. “It reeked of decay. Of maggot filled puss and blackened flesh. Not like cooked blackened, more like dead five times over blackened. And he enveloped his prey in darkness like a spider cocooning its next meal.” Virgil gagged, for real. The little one had just made himself sick.

               “And he took the other two.” Virgil looked at the crowd. “I was the only one left, and just when I was sure that I was gonna die alone, with only that, that thing as company, I felt this sensation in my gut. Like a burning. And it went through my whole body and a moment of realization overcame me. This heat was natural, familiar. I realized what I was, who I was. And that thing, well, that thing was gonna pay for what it did. So, I focused my energy, my hatred, my courage on it and the whole building came down around us, and the thing was sucked into the ground, leaving me standing in an empty lot.”  

               “Let’s just move on.” The guide was even more unimpressed with them.

               Virgil made faces behind the guide’s back for the rest of the night. Emile did as well. Roman sent him a few ungentlemanly hand gestures and internally called him a bitch. He had no taste for a good horror story. Heathen. That was an excellent description and a lovely climax.

As the night went on Roman noticed that Virgil was walking differently and always stood on his good foot whenever they stopped. When they were moving, he would either limp very slightly or hop on one foot, which he tried to cover up, but really couldn’t.

               “Is your foot hurting?” Roman asked, fairly aware of the answer and the lie that Virgil would tell.

               “No.”

               “Yes, it is.”

               “That’s a neat trick. Can you tell me if my neck hurts next?”

               “Alright, come on.” Roman picked him up.

               “What are you doing!?”

               “I’m going to carry you.”

               “Like hell you are!”

               “Come on, you really mean to tell me that you don’t want a piggyback ride?”

               “I’m an adult.”

               “You’re a teenager at best.”

               “That’s still too old.”

               “But someday you’re gonna be too big to carry.”

               “Yeah, yesterday.”

               Ignoring him completely, Roman slumped Virgil over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and kept walking.

               “Have you been sleeping better lately?” Emile asked, lagging behind slightly so he could see Virgil’s face.

               “Yeah. I guess.”

               “He,” Roman interrupted. “Has been watching horrific true crime stories on his computer.”

               “Oh, sure. Say nothing about the newspaper moose.” Roman assumed that Virgil was sneering.

               “Well, they proved that you shouldn’t be on your computer before bed.” Emile offered.

               “Uncle Logan told me the same thing.”

               “Wikipedia’s sleep routine doesn’t help him sleep though.” Roman accused.

               “I’m telling him you called him that.”

               “He knows.”

               They apprehensively arrived at their last stop.

               “This cemetery is a hot spot for paranormal activity.” The guide explained. “It is home to The Tunnleberry Vampire, the bipedal dogs and the ghost of many a deranged Civil War general. The most famous of which resides in that mausoleum over there.” He pointed to a large grey building with carved angels out front. “Legend has it that he was betrayed in battle and rose from the grave to exact his revenge on those who betrayed him. His lieutenant who spear headed the mutiny was found suffocated to death inside the general’s empty casket. The general’s body was never found.”

               “I believe the vampire was just the cemetery caretaker in a mask.” Emile interrupted. “He wanted to increase tourism in these parts to drive up the value of this graveyard so they couldn’t sell it.”

               “And those bipedal dogs turned out to be a pair of really hairy dudes banging.” Virgil shuddered. “I think it’s scarred onto my retinas.”

               “But that mausoleum.” Roman said seriously. “There is definitely something about that place. Something that haunts me. Something that despite all my years of ghost hunting still strikes me as the most unnatural event I have ever been unlucky enough to witness with my own eyes.”

                “Of course, there is.” The guide sighed.

               “It was back when I was still trying to get my paranormal business off the ground.” Roman dove into the story. “My then partner, and senior ghost hunter, Luigi Verd, was by my side the entire time. True blue he was, I’ll always remember him. We found ourselves in this graveyard investigating a series of disappearances around town. Mostly just troubled teens, alcoholics, and the homeless. But a life is a life, and a mystery is a mystery indeed. So, we set up.”

               Roman took a pause to let them get sucked in.

               “I was doing most of the lifting, as Luigi was recovering from a head injury. He had healed nicely in the hospital. The only sign of trauma was a stitched-up gash along his forehead. He was excited to have a scar to show off.” Roman looked at the ground sadly. “Or so I thought.”

               He could feel their anticipation.

               “Just as I had set everything up for our séance, we were hoping to ask the dead for a clue about the living. Anyway, just as I had finished these hooded men burst into the tomb. They were clad in floor length, red robes with their hoods pulled up to block out their faces. Before I could even react, two of them had me by each arm and they forced me onto one of the coffins and started tying down. And Luigi, who was like a brother to me, he just watched. They didn’t even go for him, but he just watched them bind me. I called out to him, and in response. He…” Roman took an exaggerated gasp. “He pulled out the stitch on his forehead. And his skin fell limp, but behind it where I expected flesh to be was more skin. And he pulled his face off as if he were removing a mask. And under the mask, under the face of a man I had known my entire life was this… this stranger! This figure who I didn’t know from Payton, slowly pulling the hide of my friend off his face. Wearing Luigi as a mask! The stranger laughed at me! He laughed at the brutal terror that welled up inside me! And he pulled out a long sharp knife…”

               “I was at the cemetery myself that night.” Virgil took up the story. “Following the dudes who were nice enough to not have me arrested for picking their pockets. In my childish mind I had sworn a life debt to them in that moment. But, little did I know that I’d be paying it off that night. Because that was when I heard the screams.”

               Mimicking Roman’s style Virgil paused and took a breath.

               “Being seven, whenever fight or flight came up in my brain I would normally fly. But that night, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why, I chose to fight. I sprinted towards the source of the screams and found the tomb doors closed to the outside. But did that stop me? No, with whatever strength a half-starved kid possesses I threw myself into the door and just kept slamming into it. I was in a frenzy! I just kept bashing into that door with all my weight. Seventy pounds of skin and bones ramming the door like there was no tomorrow.”

               “That’s where I came in.” Emile joined. “I had hit an alligator, literally there was a tiny alligator wrapped around my tire and was trying to fix my tire when I heard both the screaming and the constant thudding. I too ran to the source and saw a small child, bruised and bloody, hammering his fragile body into the concrete doors. The first thing I did was wrestle him away from the door before he killed himself. Then, I forced my tire iron between the crack in the two doors to pry it open like a lever. It budged open an inch, but then the men inside swung it open to see what was going on. I fought them as best as I could, even managing to break one’s arm. But then their leader pulled out this whip, made out of bones, human spinal bones and he snapped my weapon out of my hands while I was still reeling from the shock. Next thing I knew I was being chained to the floor.”

               “They took this distraction in their stride.” Roman shuddered. “And with Virgil and Emile dealt with they turned back to me. The knife wielder tore my shirt off in one swipe and drove his knife into my chest. Just when I thought I was done for I realized that he wasn’t about to stab me to death. Instead he slid the knife down towards my stomach, he was skinning me!”

               “I did the only thing I knew how to do.” Virgil jumped in. “I played dead. And miracle of miracles, they bought it. The one with the whip bent down to check on me, and I bit him. I sank my teeth into his wrist like it was the most delicious prime rib known to man. He fought me with his free hand, but no number of blows was making me spit that fucker’s arm out. I dug in until I hit bone, I ground my teeth to widen the wound, I sunk in until I was certain that he and I were one…”

               “And I took the opportunity to dislocate my thumb.” Emile jumped in on cue. “And slid out of one of my wrist restraints. With my free arm I put Virgil’s new chew toy in a head lock, he didn’t put up too much of a fight, as now he was woozy with blood loss. He collapsed, and Virgil started rooting through his body for the keys. Another robed guy came at me, so I did the worst thing I could think of. I grabbed his groin and I pulled with all my strength. He doubled over and Virgil tossed me the keys.”

               “With this madness going on, the leader had stopped trying to skin me and was now running towards the other two.” Roman took the reins once more. “He flew at Emile with the knife and they engaged in battle. Meanwhile, Virgil freed me, and I took the leader from behind. Emile dodged a stab and the leader fell into his own weapon. I took it from him, and Emile took up his tire iron once more. And.” Roman stopped. “Knowing that we couldn’t go to the police for fear of how deep this madness runs, without any other options. We… we finished them off.”

               “With that done. We sealed the tomb and vowed never to speak of it again.” Emile added. “And then we took Virgil to a hospital.”        

               “I had a collapsed lung.” Virgil added happily.

               The crowd applauded them and even the guide looked impressed. Emile and Virgil were satisfied, but Roman had one more trick left.

               “And,” Roman added, pulling up the hem of his shirt. “Here’s the receipt.”

               He pulled his shirt up to display a long scar that went from his sternum to his navel, well past his navel actually. The scar took the place of the more traditional bellybutton. It was still visible in the evening light. The scar itself was horrid looking. It was jagged, narrow in some places and bore the impression of skin grafts in others. It folded in slightly at his stomach giving a clear picture of how deep it was.

               The crowd gasped. Virgil squeaked in surprise and Emile looked on baffled (and hopefully impressed to be seeing Roman’s physique a second time.) Roman laughed to himself. This had been an excellent improv session and he had managed to both impress his nephew and a rather charming doctor.

               At the end of the tour Roman had done the gentlemanly thing and walked Emile to his car. The three of them laughed about their story telling talents and the tales of terror they wove.

               “Well, this is me.” Emile stopped at his car. “Thanks for walking me to my car. I didn’t want the cult to catch me alone.”

               “Of course not.” Roman agreed.

               “So, stop me if I’m intruding.” Emile started hesitantly. “But how did you get that scar?”

               “It’s far worse than the story.” Roman sighed.

               “Now you have to tell us.” Virgil bopped his shoulder.

               “Ok. I was born a conjoined twin.” Roman sighed. “They had to cut us apart. Remus, that’s my brother, has the same scar. Well, at least a similar one”

               “You both made it? That’s amazing.” Emile looked impressed. “Also, your names are Roman and Remus? Like Romulus and Remus?”

               “I hate it when people get that reference.”

               “Whatever would they have done if you were triplets?” Virgil taunted. “Hey, we all have Italian names.”

               The two adults laughed at Virgil’s observation.

               “Oh.” Emile started. “Would you two like a ride back home? I think Virgil over did it with the walking.”

               “That would be lovely.” Roman lit up slightly.

               “Woo.” Virgil said softly to Roman.

               “Now Virgil,” Roman said as he buckled his seat belt. “What would you normally do if a stranger offered you a ride home?”

               “Fight him to the death.” Virgil said plainly.

               “Ok, the correct answer is to say no and run away.” Roman disregarded that comment.

               They pulled into the driveway and saw that Patton and Logan were home already.

               “Thanks for the ride Dr. Picani.” Virgil said quickly as he darted out of the car.

               He was inside in a flash, no doubt to tell his parents everything he had been up to. Good. Roman exited the car with a bit more grace.

               “Thank you very much for the ride back, Emile.” Roman said graciously.

               “PSHSHHSHH.” Emile swatted the topic out of the air. “It was nothing.”

               There was a pause.

               “I had a good time hanging out with you.” Emile said timidly.

               “I had a good time with you too.” Roman felt himself blush.

               “I know there’s still the court case and everything…” Emile blushed as well. “But after that, when there won’t be any conflict of interest… are you single?”

               “Completely.” Roman answered.      

[1] The dogs are Clifford the Big Red Dog, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Scooby Dooby Doo, Blue from Blue’s Clues, Gir from Invader Zim (Hi Marie Pippins, that one’s for you) and Goddard from Jimmy Neutron