Jim's parents were Methodists, so he reasoned that such a cultural background made it logical for whatever was on the other side to take shape of a Protestant pantheon for the purpose of exploiting Jim's early imprinted notions. It was time to get some protection.
Fortunately, Jim had friends in every trade and knew whom to ask.
"...and this was it. Wat do you think?"
The two men were talking across a counter at the local S-Mart. One was Jim. The other was a tall man in his late thirties, once jet black hair beginning to show a hint of grey. His left hand was playing with the sign 'Counter closed' which was supposed to cover a larger one saying 'Housewares'. His other hand was scratching his head, quite a feat for a mechanical prothesis manufactured about seven centuries before.
"Hmmm. Maybe I should have said the words right back then. Well, I gave that stuff up. I'm married and have two kids now!"
"But, Ash... you're the only guy on earth who has a faint idea of what to do!"
"First off Jim, get a hold of a chainsaw. And a college chemistry book. You never know."
"Sure will."
"Now, you should expect a lot of bad things happening when you're around... unfortunately I don't have the Necronomicon anymore. You gotta go hunt for it."
"Hmm... maybe it's still in that cabin?"
"Yeah, and I'm a Chinese jet pilot. Me and Annie, we burned the place whole."
"So I'm on my own, right?"
"Pretty much. That is, unless I can get Bruce Campbell and the Raimi brothers to take interest in the whole thing again. Tell you what, Jimbo, life's getting kind of boring here."
"Er, whatever."
Mon Oct 18 02:12:10 1999