Blood Lite

"I have learned a valuable lesson, Harry," Dugan tells me when it is all over. "From now on, I will stick to my own kind."

And so he does. The next afternoon I am sitting in the third booth at Joey Chicago's, reading the Form, and the smell of rotting flesh is twice as strong as ever. I look up and there is Dugan and his new girlfriend, sidling up to the bar.

"What can I get you and this beautiful young lady?" asks Joey Chicago, managing to string together three mis-statements in just three words.

"What will it be, my dear?" says Dugan.

"It's been so many decades since I've drunk anything at all, I can't remember," says his companion. "Why don't we let the bartender decide?"

"I've got just the thing," says Joey Chicago, pulling out a pair of tall glasses and little paper umbrellas.

"And what is that?" asks Dugan.

"A pair of Zombies," says Joey Chicago.

Love Seat Solitaire

D. L. Snell

"Dude," Jess said, pushing up his glasses, "the kitchen table's floating again."

Sam looked up from the Street Fighter round he and Dave were playing on the love seat, Ken versus Chun-Li. "Fuck."

"Suuuure," Dave said, using the distraction to beat Ken into a corner with Chun-Li's unbeatable lightning kick. "Let me guess: the ghost is playing poker. And 'gullible' isn't in the dictionary."

"Casper doesn't play poker," Sam said. "He plays soli­taire."

"And fifty-two card pickup," Jess added.

"Fucking ghost."

"And I'm sure he does card tricks, too," Dave said. He won the round with Chun-Li and looked up. "So why'd the old man kill himself anyway?"

Sam threw down his controller. "He didn't. He drowned in the crapper."

"How the hell did he—?"

"Haven't you ever been drunk?"

Dave held up his soda can. "I only drink Coke," he said, smiling. He took a swig.

Sam stood up from the love seat and let Jess sit down to play.

"Scoot over, newbie," Jess told Dave. "You're in my ass-kicking zone." Dave moved to the other cushion, over far enough so his hairy leg wouldn't brush Jess's—they were both wearing shorts—but Jess sat down and rubbed their thighs together, making silly sounds like one of the Three Stooges.

"Stop it!" Dave said, smashing himself against the arm of the love seat. "I feel like a fag on this thing."

Sam picked up his pizza plate and beer mug from the milk-crate end table. "Well, it was free and I was poor," he said. "And you are a fag."

"Where are you going?" Dave asked.

"To take care of the ghost."

"Want me to come with you?"

"Why?"

"To protect you. And to see this spook you've been talking so much about."

"Be my guest."

Dave furrowed his brow as if considering it, but finally shook his head. "Nah. I'll take your word for it."

"Whatever," Sam said. As he stepped over a pile of dirty clothes and Red Bull cans to get to the kitchen, he heard Dave ask, "So when Casper drowned .. . was there shit in the toilet?"

And Jess, ignoring him, said, "No Cheat-Li this time, Dave. And no E. Honda, either!"

The kitchen table was indeed floating, an old rusty patio table hovering three inches off the linoleum. The crusty paper plates, soda cans, and credit card offers had slid to the floor to make room for Casper's game of soli­taire. The cards floated, too: Casper was invisible.

"Goddammit," Sam said, picking up forks, spoons, and an experimental bong made out of a fishbowl and two eggbeaters. "Look at the mess you made."

He threw the silverware in the sink, and it rattled off the dirty plates back onto the floor. "Dammit." Sam ignored them and set the bong on the counter.

The fridge was a kegerator, with a keg inside and a tap on the door. Soda, mayo

He pulled the tap on the fridge and poured beer into his cup. "Why do you always do this when company's over?" he asked Casper. "Here I am trying to have a good time with my bros, and you try to screw it up. You're going to scare off Dave, you know, the same way you scared off Samantha. One friend down, one to go."

Casper ignored him and kept laying out cards.

Sam smirked. "Why do you play that game anyway? You never win. It's depressing."

The ghost paused, as if considering the question. Then he picked up the cards, shuffled, and dealt seven to him­self and seven to the empty spot across from him; he laid the remaining stack in the middle and started sorting his hand.

"Go fish?" Sam said. "No thanks. I've got a life." He said it, but what would he be doing if he didn't have friends over? Playing Street Fighter by himself? He had done it before. And sometimes he slouched on the love seat, watching Blades of Glory or Ricky Bobby late into the night, feeling so empty he almost wept.

Casper threw a card at him.

"Queen of hearts," Sam said. "Coming out of the closet?"

The ghost threw a run of clubs at him: seven, eight, nine.

"So that's why six was afraid of seven. Spoooooky."The beer filled his cup to the top, surfaced with foam. He took a drink and sighed. "Ahhh. It's not quite like the head your momma used to give, but it sure is good."

Casper sprayed cards everywhere. He threw the patio table on its side, blasted open cupboards, and exploded boxes of Kix and macaroni. Sam's mug shattered and he dodged the amber waterfall, arching his back and holding the shattered cup away from his shirt and shorts. The cold brew splashed his feet; shards bounced off them.

Sam shut his eyes, furrowed his brow, and as loud as he could, shouted, "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetkjuice!"

The spilt cereal, pasta, and paper crumples swirled one last time on the floor, and then Casper's wind disap­peared.

Sam sighed. The skin beneath his eyes felt heavy. "I'm too old for this shit." He was twenty-five. He threw the broken glass in the trash can and dried off with a towel.

Back in the front room, Jess and Dave sat wide-eyed on the love seat. "What the hell happened?" Dave asked.

Sam smiled. "Casper's like a kid; he just wants attention. So you piss him off, insult his momma, and he makes a mess and leaves. It's almost impossible to keep the house clean."

"Check out what he did to your SNES," Jess said, straightening his glasses.

The vintage Super Nintendo, disco

"I think Jess was just mad 'cause I was wi

"You weren't wi