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Contents 1 Babble 2 The Interview 3 The Character 4 Description & Current Events 5 Advantages 6 Disadvantages

Babble

So... had an awesome dream where I was an Investigator of the Strange and Unusual. It didn't feel quite vivid or quite right. Turns out I was Body Jacking Bruce Willis. Here's the Meat before I get to the Character named Adam Willis [Because it was like Adam West dialogue but I was body Jacking Bruce Willis... which I already mentioned].

It's a cold night. Uncharacteristic for Summer in The City. My co-worker/fire-extinguisher/gun-enthusiast is actually polishing her head because she lost the bet that I'd need her last case. Really. I actually can handle a sword and hell hounds bleed blood not fiery acids.

As if this was a Sam Spade skit, my new case walks in. However it's a fat sweat balding turd in a suit. He tyells us how some kind of undead slumber/birthday/SOMETHING party went haywire on the 235473453745326th floor (he has no elevators so what's the difference between 20th and 235473453745326th?) of his tenement. He's willing to pay handsomely to:

1. ) Have us figure out what went wrong
2. ) Have us then SOLVE the case (bring something: down/to justice/a bagel)
3. ) Have us clean up the mess because his cleaning staff keeps dying when they go in.

Then just as fast as he came in he left. That is to say he panted there for a few minutes then groaned his way out of the room mumbling about how he can raise the rates to cover our expense. I say we'll decide if we're going to charge him because so far it sounds like bullshit and he's the biggest bull I can see. He huffs out. My assistant puts her gun down and has another of what I like to call chill pills. Ever since she had a run in rescuing my bacon from something that can be affectionately referred to as a being of Warhammer's Nurgle... she tends to get trigger happy around people too far beyond 'overweight' to be called anything save something derogatory.

"Well let's go turn something into chum for the sharks."

"Undead sharks?"

"Golly gee yes. Might have to shoot them too. Not sure the sword will cut it."

"... Don't do that again sir."

"I thought that joke was a cut above the rest. ... Right I'll slash my humor file to pieces. I'll stop jabbing you with my razor sharp wit."

"The gun is loaded"

"Po... I gotcha."

And the Dream(Park) then quickly moves to the Crime scene. It looks far too late. The door is wide open and a neighbor's cat is sniffing about. There's blood everywhere... or at least the evidence of someone having licked most of it up. If it was the cat... the cat would be full and elsewhere. Also licking up some fresh that just kinda started leaking from the electrical socket like a hose just busted. A Hose full of blood. Yes it had to be described in a corny fashion. It almost seemed vaudeville. But the mood was all wrong. It was like the place wanted to seem fake to get me out of there.

I set the sword against a wall to try to get the cat out of there - no vibes from the cat unless cute is a criminal gamma wave. Sheryl takes the cat but, points at the now missing sword. "Way to go Serge." I shrug and resume.

It really takes a turn for 'undead party' the further I advance into the 'apartment'.

Zombies slashed at in new and interesting ways. Someone thought they were flesh Golem and went for the glyphs. No glyphs but it's enough to take down a zombie.

Then there was the bathroom. Where to start. It would be immaculate if some vampire girls hadn't looked to have tried to give each other coat hanger abortions. The icing on them was fresh, and rum raisin to boot. Somewhere there would be a cake that they'd sprung out of... and a Mummy out of their mind. They could be civil. You could talk to them at length. If they weren't often more evil than a crooked politician, they might even be allowed to live free and pay taxes. But somehow many have trouble with rum raisin ANYTHING and it turns them -or gives them the excuse?- to be mindless ultra powerful undead. However they also tend to be very sleepy because of the vapors so you get a few minutes to blow them to pieces before the Rar is on.

I note something stirring near the floor. It's a ... vampire... gerbil in a plastic sack. Just say no people. I grab it and toss it towards the door. I hear happy cat squeals and a sound that suggests the gerbil will haunt me if the cat gives it a final death. "Get in line, sparky!" I call out and move on.

It is at this point as I pass closer to the master bedroom -ignoring the feces explosion in the small bedroom for the moment- that I actually said aloud,"Times like these I wish I had a sword." and poof a basket of blades popped up. I looked over a mess of fake bladed hussies and selected the only live steel i8n the basket... an Agincourt of all things... nice non-slip pommel on this one. Almost comically large. Someone didn't want it picked. Someone wanted me to have a weapon at all. Besides me of course.

The cake is not a lie and it is frosted in vanilla, and rum raisin. There's a remainder of 'Congratulations on your *something something* JD Edwards.' Otherwise it should have been a fun shindig. A little 'you could have 15 a week' on the budget side of the street but Mummies tend to be cheap. And with a JD Edwards reference it must be an Old Party. That's when a Mummy celebrates something they forgot to do at the time. In this case probably having an Old Party about something else.

That's when I notice the guy in the grand vizier's wrapping and stinking of plum wine. Who ever killed everything else missed him... or he did it. Seeing him stir, it's slice slice slice with the Agincourt. He can be reassembled later for questioning away from the rum raisin. Hell the Vampires probably are transfixed from within. The only conscious witness is the Vampire Gerbil and I'm guessing he was reading from the book of Lemmiwinks until recently.

"Sheryl."

"Guns ready," she calls from the door way.

"Don't need them, chum. It looks like a long few days are calling to us and our wallets."

"Oh?"

And I open my eyes. Somethign is bugging me and making me say that when I just wanna say 'Crazy Vamp Pimp' and go home. Something burned into my retinas while I hacked up the party boy -and no not the blood powered stock ticker telling my 'Buy Google, you shit pump!' in 3D with sound. It was on the wall,"I hate Rum Raisin you dirty Ragbod!"

I closed my eyes again, and only said,"Hate Crime. I don't know if it's some SAP programmer gone rogue or what but... it was a hate crime."

"What do you know?"

"They hate rum raisin probably as much as Mummies are intoxicated by it. And"

"And?"

"They like glitter more than is healthy. It looks like MySpace made an offering on the wall and the Perpetrator wrote in it."

"Yuck. Long day indeed. Whats that smell?"

"Second bedroom. Likely to be day 2-15 of our work here."

The Interview

As fast as all that seemed to go by, it was aparently a trailer. Why? Because Bruce Willis was asked about how he personally scouted the girl who played Sheryl out of a large collection of GI Jane fangirls. We see a few audition segments with the lady who got the role. Then the Dream Ends.

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The Character

• Name: Adam Willis
• Age: Early 30's (makes spells harder to use on him when non-specific)
• Gender: Male
• Height: Average for 2055
• Weight: Average for 2055
• Hair: Brown
• Eyes: Black

Description & Current Events

Advantages

• Proudmore - A Magical Housecat with the strength to throw a 350 lbs man through a double pane window.
• SpellStop - Gives him a dodging chance
• Closet SpellCaster

Disadvantages

• Various non-harmful insanities and eccentricities.
• Gamer - Often telling others in the profession they need to play more because it's both inspiring and a warning of what could happen. Thus it's annoying to others so a DISadvantage.
• Proudmore follows him everywhere. Thus in a way he's the OPPOSITE of a HOUSEcat. Well unless Adam is in a House. But then it's a matter that Adam is there. You'd think Adam was his tree and Proudmore was a male Dryad in the form of a cat.