You ever meet those kinds of people that from the outset, you know, you just know that they're unhinged?

Maybe it takes you a couple of minutes into the conversation before they suddenly mention they regularly infuse their boogers, nail clippings, and whatever other bodily shavings, into a broth,

they think gives them the ability to see into the future, some other crazy shit.

Well, a couple of days after the incident with Gomez, while I was still trying to figure out

where to go from there, a patron I didn't recognize walked in.

Maybe that's just because Word was beginning to get around about the kind of place this was, or they just stumbled

in here by accident. By the way, it was a tad strange, as were the moments leading up to it.

Chudder was restless, pacing around the bar constantly. He was never a big fan of

thunderstorms or heavy rain, preferring the comfort of his blanket or his best friend's lab.

Unfortunately for him, I was anticipating a delivery, and our regulars would need a top-up soon.

I should clarify, while our top-shelf merch is our main attractor and isn't paid for with money,

we do, of course, have lower shelf bruise that are chargeable.

How else do you think we stay afloat?

The delivery came and I thank the courier, a stack of various concoctions now waiting to be placed in their new homes.

A regular had come in as the delivery was finishing and sat petting cheddar,

taking grateful sips of pulse thumper as they saw the courier out.

The regular's name was Krause, a short fellow with neat brown hair and thick glasses.

He claimed to have once been an insurance fraud investigator that occasionally bent the rules to get bigger payouts. By bent the rules, I of course mean

he started fires that couldn't be put out, though he was careful to ensure nobody was ever

present at the time. There was still something to his story, though, until he told me everything.

I was destined to keep on seeing him and dish out cheap advice.

"'So you just straight up torch this motherfucker where I'm sitting?' he asked. A boyish grin

...