Part XXXVII: Dinah And Imaginary Troy's Car

Harry Guakomoli left Miss Yvonne's Psychic Readings to find Dinah waiting for him. She was leaning against the passenger's side of a gun metal black '85 Chevy Monte Carlo with her ankles crossed. She wore the same black boots and rubber jacket as the night before. The skirt and nylons were replaced with a pair of crimson crushed velvet pants. Her long black hair, which previously was loose and hid much of her pale face, was tied into a pair of braids. Large white cat eye with dark, nearly opaque, sunglasses covered her eyes.

"Howdy, stranger," Dinah said before taking a drag off her vanilla-flavored cigarette. It was then our hero noticed the lady's lips and nails were painted the same shade as the car.

"I thought you were going to wait for me to come to you."

"I couldn't resist your manliness" she replied. "You make me sooo hard."

The Guak grunted.

"Do you need a ride somewhere?" the lady asked.

"How did you find me?" our hero replied with a question of his own.

"We're everywhere, The Guak," Dinah responded. "There's no hiding from us."

"You're tracking my phone."

Dinah smiled and shrugged.

"Which reminds me," The Guak continued. "What the fuck's up with that number?"
 
"What? We thought you would like it."

"The '666' area code is mighty cool," our hero admitted. "But I'm told that Yvonne chick would freak out if she sees the Sign of The Beast."

"We use '666' because it's no longer in use and never will be again," Dinah explained. "And the last seven digits? Do you like them?"

"I can't even remember them," said The Guak. "8-4-something."
 
"8-4-3-4-8-2-5. It spells 'The Guak.'"

"Okay, '666-TheGuak' is really fucking cool."

"I know," said Dinah after taking another drag off her smoke. “Now get in. I want to talk to you but not out here. The sun is a meanie to my skin."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Call me 'ma'am' again, and I'll make you a eunuch."

"Understood."

Dinah pushed herself off the side of the car and walked around to the driver's door. The Guak sat in the passenger's seat and rested his box of possessions on the floorboard between his legs. A pair of fuzzy red dice hung from the rear view mirror. A plastic hula girl stuck to the top of the dash. Dinah inserted the key into the ignition and turned the it. The car roared to life. And it was loud. Really fucking loud.

"This isn't what I expected you to drive," The Guak said.

"Isn't it AMAZING?“ said the raven-haired cutie. “I imagine the previous owner was some good ol' boy from the South. Jacksonville or something real redneck-y like that. His name's Troy and has a dirty blond mullet and moustache. Troy's addicted to meth and Mountain Dew and lives in a trailer park with his very large invalid mother and white trash stripper girlfriend."

"You've put a lot of thought into this," our hero observed.

"I have a lot of free time and bore easily."
 
Dinah threw the car in drive and sped away.

"Did you discover anything useful?" she asked The Guak.

 

"Not much. Yvonne told me she bought me from some woman when I was a baby, and then she freaked out when I mentioned my mother. Really freaked out. Crazy Linda Blair Exorcist shit."

"Interesting. We believe she's the one who dumped you at St. Hedwig's all those years ago and has a connection to your mother."

"What's her deal?" The Guak asked.

"Yvonne's a clairvoyant and a former voodoo mamba," answered Dinah.

"Bullshit," said our hero. "I've been told, and exposed to, a lot of fucked up shit lately, but if you expect me to believe she was once a snake you're shit out of luck."

"No, no," corrected Dinah with a giggle. "A mamba is a voodoo priestess. We think that's how she knows your mother."

"And Yvette?"

"Well, there's a theory the two aren't even related. But I don't know much about her other than she's a hottie and a charlatan."

"You're at least right about one of those things," commented our hero.

"I know of your weakness for non-white flesh."

The Guak said nothing.

"You're no fun, The Guak," said Dinah.

Dinah continued to drive. The lady flicked her cigarette butt out the window before immediately reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a tin-plated cigarette case. She removed another vanilla-flavored butt and placed it between her gun metal black lips.

"Those things will kill you," lectured our hero.

"That's okay. I've died four times already."

Before The Guak was given a chance to ask Dinah to elaborate gunfire shot out the back window of the Monte Carlo.