CHAPTER ONE

Walter Scott was not a happy man, he wasn’t a talented man, and when we get right down to it… he wasn’t even a very good man. During his life he moved with no purpose or direction, and as a result a lot of his mistakes in life stemmed from this. The guy had no idea what he wanted, unless he saw someone else with something he didn’t have. Then he’d finally start applying himself. Not towards earning these same things, but instead taking them for himself. Why?

WALT
It’s not enough to have what they have. I want them not to have it either.

But Walter don’t you see that’s stealing.

WALT (CONT’D)
I don’t give a shit. I deserve this stuff way more than any of them.

Walter felt entitled. He believed in a type of cosmic balance, “Shit things happen to me therefor good things must also happen to me.” Unfortunately he died before anything good ever came his way. Now he resides in Hell, serving out an eternal life sentence. Funny thing is, he’s now finally found a purpose.

When it comes to bringing misery and pain to others Walter Scott was a natural. He knew all the most agonizing instruments of torture and how to employ them. Lawyers who bent and exploited the justice system while they were alive, would represent a conveyor belt of clients before a judge in civil court. There would be no recess and no fees. And baring in mind this was hell, none of the matters were clear cut. When one man would burrow money from another man, and not pay it back; the other man would set fire to his dog. Yes even animals go to hell. If you’ve ever seen an episode of Judge Judy then you can imagine the pain pretty accurately, in fact that’s exactly where Walter got the idea. Only difference being the lawyers.

Walt was sat in front of the court house smoking a cigar like an asshole. He liked to micro manage, so he’d make occasional stops at all his punishments. As the unsatisfied clients made their way out the doors, Walt popped a bottle of champagne and sprayed it all over them like something out of a F1 podium.

VLAD
What the fuck?! Why the hell did I get fined?! This asshole stole from me!

RUSSLE
I stole from you cause you wouldn’t stop eating my mother’s ashes! I’m throwing all your god damn VHS tapes in the trash.

WALT
The reason you were fined was because you even owned a VHS collection. If the soul wasn’t immortal I’d have you sentenced to death.

VLAD
What do you want from me I died in 84.

WALT
You still could have had Laserdisc.

Walt proceeded to crack the bottle of champagne against the steps of the court house, or he tried. The films would have you believe that shattering a glass bottle is as simple as tapping it against a bar top, if this were true we’d all be drinking out of tin cans. Walt continued to hack away at the steps like an ape. His last swing had so much gusto it flew from his grip. He examined both his hands and then the floor. It wasn’t there. He then heard a thud followed by a shatter.

LOUIE
Arggghh!!!! What the fuck?!

Walt turned around, and standing before him surrounded by broken glass was Lucifer himself.

LOUIE (CONT’D)
What the shit? When did we start throwing glass bottles at people here? Or is that apart of the punishment?

WALT
No, I was trying to christen the court house.

LOUIE
Why? It’s been around forever.

WALT
Yeah, but now it’s really serving justice.

LOUIE
You got a point. It’s just like an episode of Judge Judy, although I still think the people on that show are in more agony. Hey we should really look at throwing bottles at the people when they come out, that would really ruin their day. Also instead of having one person win a case, how about they both lose. Yeah! Everybody loses!

WALT
What? That’s a stupid fucking idea Louie, no one is going to go to court if they know they’re automatically gonna lose.

LOUIE
This is Hell Walt, we can’t have any winners here.

WALT
What? That doesn’t make any sense, we have casinos here; people win shit all the time.

LOUIE
Fine, but we’re throwing glass bottles at them when they come outside.

Louie and Walt when not seeing to the misfortunes of others would haunt the open air bar of a local casino. There Louie would play the role of the Devil as you’d expect. He’d befriend the desperate souls who lost one too many times at the roulette table. He’d convince them to play once more, promising them their luck would turn around. And it does, for a while. He makes sure they’re surrounded by the finer things in life such as 40 year old whiskey, money grubbing women and Cuban cigars. But the moment Louie catches that glimmer of content in their eyes he turns the tables. He slowly strips everything away that he gave, and more. Their eyes go from brilliant blue to dull grey. Once they’re poorer than ever before they turn to Louie once more, begging, pleading and shaming themselves for anther shot.

LOUIE (CONT’D)
I like you so I want to help you. I can give you this chip worth one bitcoin, take it cash it in and go home. But you have to go home, if we catch you playing here we’ll break your elbows. Or I can give you this chip worth two bitcoins and you can keep playing. But you have to keep playing, if you try to go home we’ll just bring you back in… and then break your elbows. So what’s it gonna be?

Nine times out of ten they decided to stay and play.

LOUIE (CONT’D)
Oh there’s one more condition, if you want to stay here and play you have to give me your shoes.

That’s when he stops, when he has their dignity, their fortune and even their shoes.

WALT
Why do you always take their shoes, you ain’t even the same size as that guy?

LOUIE
These shoes ain’t for wearing.
Louie calls over the girl tending the bar and asks her to “throw ‘em with the rest.” She tosses the pair into a bucket filled with other shoes, the whole set up looked like something you’d find in a Clark’s.

WALT
Why do you do it?

LOUIE
What?

WALT
That shit with the shoes why do you do it?

LOUIE
These people still have free will, even though there down here. But even with free will I can still control them. In all these years human beings have been around they’re still as predictable as ever. I do it for laughs, yeah, but I also like to occasionally exercise my power.

WALT
So the shoes are a trophy?

LOUIE
Yeah, they’re a statement of my power. If I own your shoes I own you.

WALT
Yeah, all you do is pick on these degenerates; they’d sell you their own mother for a place at the poker table. I’m not impressed at all.

LOUIE
Oh yeah?

WALT
Yeah, you’d never be able to get the shoes off someone who’s slightly intelligent.

LOUIE
Challenge excepted.

WALT
What challenge?

LOUIE
You issued a challenge. You said I couldn’t get you to give me your shoes.

WALT
When did I say that?

LOUIE
You implied it.

WALT
No, can you just stop it with the shoes?

Walt slumped in his stool sipping on his Vesper martini as he watched a man flip a Craps table in frustration. Louie noticed his dower mood.

LOUIE
Why you acting like such a little bitch?

WALT
These people must spend every single minute of the day thinking about what could have been. What they could have done to avoid all this.

LOUIE
Walt, this place runs on regret. What do you want to do, give them counseling? Anyway they’re fucking scumbags who gives a shit?

WALT
Technically I’m still one of them, I’m a scumbag.

LOUIE
So this is about you, huh? What exactly do you regret?

Walt had many regrets. When most people come into the world of the living they bring with them limitless possibilities. But for Walt most times he’d look down these different roads and he’d see the same destination, Hell. Perhaps he just didn’t have a strong enough imagination. But there were moments from his life where he can remember something other, than his inevitable spiraling descent towards the underworld.

CHAPTER TWO

It was summertime, Walt was alive and living in a studio. The space itself was more befitting of a wardrobe. A single mattress without a frame was situated beneath a window in the corner. The only other piece of furniture was a table and four chairs, which Walt had found outside next to the bins. He did his best to clean them and even took the effort to treat them with lemon and olive oil. He was proud of his space, despite what little he had. He saw it as only the beginning.
Walt would spend his free time smoking beside his window watching South Beach Tow. Occasionally he’d look over into the windows of the apartment building next to his. The two buildings were no more than ten feet apart. Whenever adverts would air he’d turn his attention to his neighbors. He’d scan the windows in hopes of catching a salacious act, in this respect he was a creep. But more often than not he’d see a couple argue with each other. He’d often amuse himself by imagining what they where fighting over. It would typically revolve around the man coming out of the closet. Like I said, he didn’t have a strong imagination. But he would always watch over one window more so than the rest. And the reason for this was of course a girl.

Most people who looked at this girl would call her cute, and make a remark about how thick her eyebrows were. But to Walt she was the type of beauty Greek tragedies revolved around. She was all he ever saw when he closed his eyes. He loved how she’d wriggle her nose whenever she’d hear or read something she didn’t like. In his mind’s eye he could draw her face, his favorite parts was the dimple in her chin and the curls of her smile. He was down right obsessed with her, and the fact he watched her from afar made it worse. Despite having all the hallmarks of a deranged stalker, Walt’s feelings came from a place of sincerity. A place inside him he thought had withered and died a long time ago. The only problem was, she already had a man.

For the first several months Walt was content with just watching her from afar. Occasionally he’d play out scenarios in his head where they meet each other. To even his surprise none of these ‘what ifs’ were smut. He would have been happy just to learn her name. One day in June Walt took to the roof of his building, he decided to smoke up there for a change as opposed to sitting beside his window. As he walked out on to the roof he was pleased to find it empty, but he was even happier to find her. She was sat on a garden chair, smoking a skinny cigarette on the roof of her building. Walt felt the corners of his face twitch into a smile. He was never an opportunist but he knew he had to take this shot. He played this moment out so many times in his head, he knew what to do.

WALT
Hey. Sorry, do you have a lighter?

She glanced at him out the corner of her eye. At least he got her attention.

WALT (CONT’D)
Mine’s out of fuel.

He marveled at how firmly she huffed through her nose.

GIRL
All I have are matches.

Even the way she threw was effortless, Walt examined the action like a ring announcer. “Look at that spin from the left hand, you can’t stop it. That matchbox is coming at you like an RKO out of nowhere!” Walt was overselling the throw. It was actually quite bad, he practically had to hurl himself off the roof in order to make the catch. She jump out her seat as he leaned over. Walt took pleasure in seeing her so concerned over him, what he didn’t realize was that she was reacting like anybody else would. Still he played it cool, by shooting a reassuring smirk her way.

WALT
Nice throw.

GIRL
Nice catch. I almost thought you were going to fall.

WALT
That’d be a pretty pathetic way to die. Man falls to his death over matchbox.

GIRL
Man has funeral in matchbox.

He chuckled has he lit his cigarette.

WALT
Here, let me show you how to throw.

Walt took four paces back and gave it the old baseball pitcher wind up before firing. The girl made a grab for it and almost caught the matchbox, but it ricocheted out her palm.

GIRL
Fuck!

WALT
Can’t throw, can’t catch. What can you do?

GIRL
That’s the last time I lend you a light.

She sat herself back down, crossed her legs and took a drag of her cigarette.

WALT
What’s that a super skinny cigarette? Very classy.

GIRL
Vogue Menthol. What’s that a cheap roll up?

The girl blew a jesting puff of smoke towards a leering Walt.

GIRL (CONT’D)
Very trashy.

WALT
Heh. Wow. You’re quite the people person aren’t you?

GIRL
I don’t see any ‘people’ here.

WALT
You’re right I’m not ‘people’. ‘People’ have a Twitter and read Buzzfeed. I… am so much worse.

GIRL
I’ll bet.

This was the moment Walt’s heart jumped out his chest. It wasn’t so much her words as it was the way she looked at him when she said it. Complete and utter curiosity.

WALT
So why are these roofs so empty? Did you scare everyone off?

GIRL
Perhaps.

WALT
Perhaps? You like your privacy huh?

GIRL
Who doesn’t?

WALT
Yeah, everyone likes to be private. That’s why they put all their personal details on the internet.

GIRL
You hiding from the government or something?

WALT
Perhaps?

The girl could have been a professional poker player. She didn’t give anything away unless she wanted to. But she did want
Walt to see her smirk. It was smug but that only seemed to turn him on even more.

GIRL
Let me guess? Murder? You definitely have the eyes of a killer.

WALT
Yeah, maybe a lady killer.

The girl chuckled, she liked that one.

GIRL
I can see. You think you’re very smooth don’t you?

For all of Walt’s faults, he was actually capable of being charming. But it wasn’t a switch that was always on, he was very selective of who he’d choose to sting with it.

WALT
Oh, I don’t think anything.

GIRL
Like at all?

Although as good as Walt was, she was better.

WALT
Heh, yeah I can’t think at all; but I was always very good at coloring in the lines.

GIRL
I hated coloring where I was supposed to.

WALT
You were more of a finger painter?

GIRL
No, I was more of a draw on the wall kinda girl.

WALT
Oh dear, I bet your parents loved that.

GIRL
Yeah, actually they encouraged me.

WALT
Well, naughty kids are always the cutest.

GIRL
Then you must have been fricken adorable then.

WALT
What are you implying? I was a little angel.

GIRL
No, I don’t see it.

WALT
You’ve known me for like two minutes.

GIRL
I’m good at reading people, and my instincts are telling me you were a little devil.

Walt sighed, he loved how she challenged every word that came out of his mouth.

WALT
You have good instincts, they actually surgically removed my horns when I was twelve.

GIRL
You should get rid of the tail next.

The girl stubbed out her cigarette as she glanced at Walt. He knew the conversation was coming to an end, but there was just one more thing he had to ask her.

WALT
You got a name?

GIRL
Of course I have a name.

WALT
Well what is it? I like to know the name of my enemy.

The girl rose out of her chair and gave Walt a wry smile.

GIRL
Annie.

WALT
Annie, huh… I’m Walt.

It was a blissful moment amongst the sea of raw sewage that was Walt’s life. But he had to come back to reality. A reality where the Devil calls you a “little bitch” for not drinking enough whiskey sours.

LOUIE
You’re all over the place Walt, you can’t even hold a conversation.

WALT
I was trying to remember a time where I didn’t… never mind.

The pair looked out towards the sea of souls beneath them. If you were shown a picture of it you’d mistaken it for any other city up on Earth; but it was anything but that. The level of overcrowding made Tokyo look vacant.

LOUIE
God damn it, pretty soon we’re gonna need to start stacking people on top of each other; like God damn Tetris.

WALT
I thought you were gonna knock down into the dimension next to us.

LOUIE
Yeah, but that might all be later rather than sooner. I got all these damn activists up my ass about the whole extension. Apparently the residents of that dimension don’t want Hell reigning upon them.

WALT
Do you think you’ll be able to work something out?

LOUIE
I got to. Look at this shit. But Walt you know what you could do to help me out?

WALT
Come one Louie, don’t ask me to go back up.

LOUIE
Come on Walt, what happened you were really excited to go back when I first asked you?

WALT
Yeah, but Louie. I just… I don’t belong up there man, there’s a reason I’m down here. I’ve been here so long now I don’t even remember what it is to be human.

LOUIE
I’m not asking you to be human, I’m asking you to reduce the traffic coming into Hell.

Walt leaned over the edge of the terrace and took a sip from his glass, before letting go off it. His eyes followed the glass’ descent until it shrunk out of sight. Walt felt like he was the glass, his descent wasn’t too different. He was whole before he reached the bottom, then he shattered into pieces. At least that’s what he thought. The truth is Walt was broken long before he died.

WALT
This is who I am now Louie, I punish people who deserve it. I’m okay with that.

LOUIE
I’d hate to break this to you Walt, but not all our residents deserve to be here.

WALT
What?

LOUIE
Yeah, not everybody here is really all that bad.

WALT
What do you mean? How are they in Hell if they don’t deserve to be here?

LOUIE
Yeah well you know, a lot of people sell their soul to me. You know they want fame and fortune, I give it to them and in return they spend eternity here. You also get a lot of people selling their souls for the sake of their loved ones; like if a mother wants to save her boy from cancer.

WALT
What? Why are you doing these contracts? They’re a complete mockery of the system!

LOUIE
There was a time when having as many people down here was a good thing. It’s like how a hotel needs guests in order to operate.

WALT
So some of the people I’ve been torturing aren’t even all that bad.

LOUIE
Yeah, most likely.

WALT
What the fuck Louie?!

LOUIE
Look I ain’t proud of what I did. But that’s why I need you up there. I still got a lot of contracts in effect and if we don’t take care of them, we’re gonna have a shit ton of souls pouring in.

WALT
So you need me to clean up your mess is what you’re saying.

LOUIE
Yeah, basically.

WALT
Great, and while I’m up there who’s gonna clean up your mess down here?

LOUIE
Hey, I ain’t a child.

WALT
No, you’re just the size of one.

LOUIE
You son of a bitch! I ought to bust your ass back to sanitation.

WALT
Go ahead bitch, I actually liked working there!

LOUIE
No respect! A thousand years ago no one would have dared spoken to me like this!

WALT
No one spoke to you period, cause you’re fat and ugly!

LOUIE
I still see more action than you asshole!

The pair continued to yell over one another, exactly what they said is inconsequential. It was mostly profane abuse. The combination of drinking and deep seated bitterness made this a regular occurrence. But enough exposition, Walt was willing to return to Earth, albeit reluctantly. Louie had brought him to the airport where the two had first met.

WALT
Let me guess, I need to take a plane back to Earth.

LOUIE
Yep, also you’re gonna need a vessel.

WALT
What’s a vessel?

LOUIE
How do I explain it?

Walt took a sip of chocolate liqueur from a tumbler glass. That’s when a idea came to Louie. He pulled the glass from Walt’s grasp.

WALT
Come on, I asked you before if you wanted a drink.

LOUIE
Your soul is like this… what is this?

WALT
Chocolate liqueur.

Louie took a swig and grinned monstrously.

LOUIE
Ummm. That’s good.

WALT
You know what else is really good, Kahlúa.

LOUIE
Is that the Mexican drink you were telling me about? Wait! I was trying to explain something. Your soul! It’s like this liqueur.

WALT
Delicious?

LOUIE
No, you jackass. Up on Earth the soul is like liquid, formless. Now you can’t drink a liquid without a glass.

Louie poured the contents of the glass to the floor.

WALT
Oh, come on man. That glass was like 0.03 Bitcoins.

LOUIE
Pay attention. In order to actually walk on the plane of the living you need your soul to be poured into a glass. This is where the vessel comes in. It’ll look and work the same as your old body, but really it’s just a meat puppet.

WALT
So basically I’ll be alive again?

LOUIE
Yes and no. These vessels are no replacement for an actual body. See the soul doesn’t like being stuffed into a vessel, so it’ll eventually burn out. Like a tin can in a microwave.

WALT
Got it.

Walt walked down the gate. He halted, partially because he was nervous but more so because of a resurfacing concern.

WALT (CONT’D)
Louie, I remember you once said you could find out how I died.

While in Hell, the question of how he died had never concerned him. But with the realization that he’d be returning to the realm of the living, he felt uneasy not knowing. Did he die of natural causes? Was he killed? And would it happen again?

LOUIE
Yeah, I could ask around if you’d like. Human resources would probably know something about it.

WALT
Yeah. I think I need to know.

Walt proceeded towards the plane door. He was poised to step through when a thought occurred to him.

WALT (CONT’D)
Louie. What happens if I die again?

Louie grinned and shuffled backwards away from Walt. He was attempting to be mysterious.

LOUIE
What is dead may never die.

WALT
What? Is that from Game of Thrones?

LOUIE
Errrm… no.

It was. Louie shuffled jauntily away. He hopped up behind a woman and lifted up her skirt.

LOUIE (CONT’D)
Shit they’re pink, I was sure they were red.

The woman embarrassed, furiously slapped Louie across the face. Walt was desensitized towards Louie’s misbehavior. The actions of the residents from Hell would be seen as inappropriate by anyone from the surface. When there are no more consequences to suffer, people act without a filter. It’s probably the only good thing about the place.

While onboard the plane, Walt was struck with a sense of de ja vu. An empty deck, much like when he arrived in Hell. He was struck with another dose of familiarity when he recognized the air host. The stripped layer of flesh revealing nothing but the muscle of his face, the row of teeth for eyes and the tongue draped around his neck like a scarf. It was the very same demon that escorted and more importantly shamed Walt during his descent.

WALT
You!

DARYL
Walt! Hey, good to see you again man.

WALT
Don’t tell me I gotta fly with you.

DARYL
Come one, don’t be like that. Last time I was just doing my job. Did I enjoy it? Of course. But things are different now, this time I’m flying you out of here.

WALT
Not a word, if I hear you bring up a single thing from my past I’m walking out.

DARYL
Even after take off?

WALT
Yeah, I’d rather be in Hell than have a repeat of our first flight.

DARYL
Don’t worry Walt, you’re flying business class now. The name’s Daryl by the way.

WALT
I don’t care what your name is. Just stay away from me.

DARYL
Whatever you say.

Daryl stepped behind the doors of the pilot’s cabin. Once he was out of sight Walt let out a sigh and reclined his seat. Finally, he thought; a space to relax and think. The rocking motion of the plane helped carry Walt into a trance. Ever since death Walt had been unable to sleep; the soul doesn’t need to sleep. But it could still drift into a state of quite bliss. The furious rumblings of the jet became the serene sound of ocean waves crashing against one another. Walter found the best way to “sleep” was to draw within his mind’s eye. He had a preference for sketching out the people from his life. He was good at remembering faces. They’re nose, they’re eyebrows and even the curves of their lips. Usually he’d picture his cousin Emma, he knew the exact length of her facial features. Her eye lashes, her ear lobes and even her pupils.

The reason he drew her so often was because he was afraid he’d forget what she looked like. But there was one face he knew he’d always remember. He’d start with tracing her eyes, they were cold beads towards most; but to him they were inviting emerald gems. He’s favorite part were her eyebrows, he drew them bushy and fierce. You know how Italians do all they’re talking with they’re hands, well with her the eyebrows did the talking. To him they spoke volumes about her character, about how she stood out and commanded attention. Her smile was the hardest part to crack, they were like the opposite of the Mona Lisa. Instead of a smile from every angle it was a frown; expect if you were looking at it from just the right spot. Or perhaps if you were just the right person.

WALT
Ann-

What sweet bliss it was… while it lasted. Daryl burst through the pilot’s cabin and hurled himself into the seat beside Walt.

DARYL
So tell me Walt, what business you got back up there?

If it were possible for Walt to still burst a blood vessel, he would already be in need of a blood transfusion.

WALT
Daryl, right?

DARYL
Yeah.

WALT
Why don’t you sit yourself in the pilot’s seat and make sure we don’t crash and die again.

DARYL
Oh I’m not the pilot.

Walt shot out of his seat and glanced over at the pilot’s cabin.

WALT
You’re not the pilot?! Then who’s flying this plane?!

Daryl cackled. The familiar sound of his laughter irritated Walt.

DARYL
The planes down here don’t need a pilot.

WALT
So what are you onboard for?

DARYL
Well someone’s got to refill the toilet roll.

Walt sighed and took a seat one away from Daryl.

DARYL (CONT’D)
I see you’re still a people person.

Daryl moved next to Walt.

DARYL (CONT’D)
You know I gotta say, I’m really impressed. When you first arrived here I thought “This guy’s gonna be sweeping the streets till the end of time”. And now I hear you’re virtually running the place. How’d all that happen exactly?

WALT
Well, this being hell how else does one succeed? It wasn’t through hard work or determination, I certainty didn’t kiss any ass or suck any cock. I just became drinking buddies with the Devil himself.

DARYL
Dude! You are like my frickin hero!

WALT
Really?

DARYL
I’ve been here for over a millennia and seen people constantly try and worm their way up to the top. They think whatever they learned back on Earth can be applied to Hell. All these fat cats and company men make me sick. Just a bunch of sycophants trying to get the boss’s attention. You know how Louie likes to humour them, so he can knock them back down. I love to see that happen. But he was getting bored of it. I thought someone’s eventually gonna crack it and win the boss over. And the idea of it being one of these yes men really got me worried, there was one time Louie took this guy under his wing, and I got really scared. Worst of all he was a marketing exec; I didn’t want him running shit! But then you came along and became the big dick on campus. A regular scumbag like the rest of us.

Walt was onboard with the rambling until that last part.

WALT
Scumbag?

DARYL
You didn’t give a shit, you didn’t even want to be his substitute! That’s why you’re prefect for the job.

WALT
Whatever happened to this marketing exec guy?

DARYL
You put him to work in one of your pawn shops. The guy tries to kill himself every day. I keep tabs. I really fucking hate marketing people.

WALT
Heh, well thanks Daryl. Keep saying nice things about me and this might turn out to be a pleasant journey.

DARYL
Hey, you know we got a bar in here.

WALT
Why are you telling me this now? I’ve been on this plane for almost an hour now. My hands are starting to shake.

DARYL
No problem Walt! Follow me.

Daryl directed Walt towards a spiral staircase situated behind them. The two climbed the steps and emerged into a dimly lit room, large enough to fit a hundred people. Blue velvet curtains lined the walls, there was an oval bar taking centre stage in the room. Daryl offered a stool to Walt. As he sat, Daryl stationed himself behind the counter.

DARYL (CONT’D)
What can I get you?

WALT
Well, it’s about four so I think a liqueur would be appropriate.

CHAPTER THREE

Now we take a moment to take a look back at Walter’s past. Why? Cause the flight back to Earth is rather arduous and all present Walt is currently doing is drinking.

Atop a rooftop on a chilly Thursday night sits a young woman smoking. Lost in thought. She was looking for a solution to a
predicament she found herself in. The more she stressed the more she huffed and puffed. Walt stepped on the rooftop next to her’s. As if his arrival was the answer she’d been looking for. He first noticed something was up when he saw what she was wearing. A black cocktail dress, and her more familiar red leather jacket. Walt pulled out a cigarette and strolled towards her. She noticed him out of the corner of her eye. The sly smile from the corner of her mouth was subtle, but Walt knew her face well enough to spot it. She pretended not to take note of him. It was a classic bait, but he would have happily fall for it each and every time.

WALT (CONT’D)
You got a light?

ANNIE
Sure.

Annie pulled out a elegant silver light from the breast pocket of her jacket. She held it up for Walt to see. Rather than toss it over to him she chose to hold on to it, tapping it against her chin.

ANNIE (CONT’D)
Come and get it.

There it was, the shit eating grin that could tease him into doing anything she wanted. So he jumped, from one building to another. Whenever Walter Scott got caught up in a moment he committed, also in his head he looked like Paul Walker from Fast Five. It was impressive but it was no Paul Walker, maybe more Shia LaBeouf from a Transformer film. Either way Annie jumped out of her seat.

ANNIE (CONT’D)
I told you to stop doing that!

WALT
You are unbelievable, first you lure me over and then you yell at me for doing what you wanted. Come on Annie, I thought you were different from other women.

ANNIE
And I thought you were different from other monkeys.

WALT
Oh nice, I see what you did there.

ANNIE
Yet again Annie Olsen gets in another point over Walter Scott.

Annie cupped her hands around her mouth and began chanting her own name. Walt in response blew raspberries and gave her a thumbs down. Since their rooftop smoking became a regular thing, the pair had begun a competition of wits. Annie had a massive lead over Walt.

WALT
Are you gonna give me the light or what?

ANNIE
I said come and get it didn’t I?

She placed the lighter behind her back. Walt loved this game, and Annie did too. It was just an excuse for the two to touch each other. As he lunged at her she let out a shriek of laughter. The two wrestled until Walt wretched the light free from her palm. He noticed she was more aggressive than usual this time.

WALT
Shit, where’s my cigarette? I must have dropped it somewhere just now.

ANNIE
Or maybe you dropped it when you jumped over. Nevermind, here.
She snatched the lighter back from Walt and set alight one of her own Skinny cigarettes. She savored the puff before handing it over to Walt.

WALT
Hey.

ANNIE
What?

WALT
You going somewhere?

ANNIE
I have to go to this thing with Phillip.

Walt hated hearing that name. Every time he heard it, the perfect little bubble he created in his head; for himself and Annie would be burst.

ANNIE (CONT’D)
His friend owns a bar and they’re having a dance contest. They’re pretty close so we gotta make an appearance.

WALT
You look like you’re having second thoughts.

ANNIE
Well, I can’t dance to save my life and it’s a dancing contest. So I’m a little nervous. I just don’t want to embarrass Phillip you know?

Walt relished this revelation. He leaned his head back and smiled crookedly.

WALT
Oh my god. I never thought I’d see the day. Something Annie Olsen isn’t good at. You really can’t dance?

ANNIE
I’m a white girl from a small town, of course I can’t dance.

WALT
Nope. Nope. Nope, you can’t hide behind that stereotype. Listen to me Annie, anyone can dance.

ANNIE
I’m not anyone.

WALT
True. Fortunately, I’m a very good teacher.

ANNIE
Oh no, you’re gonna teach me how to dance?

WALT
Yeah, don’t look at me like that.

Annie paced around the roof, glancing back and forth from Walt to her feet. She shot him a look of scepticism.

WALT (CONT’D)
Wow, you’re looking around the place like there’s queue of people; willing to teach you. Come on Annabelle, I’m you’re only choice.

ANNIE
My name isn’t Annabelle.

WALT
I know, but Annabelle sounds cute. Now come over here.

Walt pointed towards the space before him, Annie reluctantly followed his command.

WALT (CONT’D)
Good girl, now sit.

Annie slapped him across the arm.

WALT (CONT’D)
First things first, my course is pretty intense and appropriate foot wear is a must.

He nods at Annie’s pumps.

ANNIE
Fine by me. You have no idea how painful they are.

WALT
Why did you put them on then?

ANNIE
Cause they look good with the dress.

Walt raised his eyebrow.

ANNIE (CONT’D)
Alright. They’re the only pair of heels I own. I’m more of a flats girl.

As Annie removed her shoes, she grabbed a hold of Walt’s arm in order to steady herself. He purposefully jolted as her foot climbed out of her left pump.

ANNIE (CONT’D)
Hey!

WALT
I’m just showing you what will happen if you dance in these shoes.

Annie squeezed his arm.

ANNIE
You’re right, you’re actually right for once. That must be such a new feeling for you.

Walt grins bitterly.

WALT
You want another point don’t you?

Annie nodded mischievously.

WALT (CONT’D)
That makes it six points to me… and fourteen to you.

ANNIE
Fourteen? I’m counting seventeen.

WALT
No. I am not counting those burns from last Wednesday. We were on neutral ground that day.

ANNIE
Damn the fire exit. Fine. It doesn’t matter, I’m still in the lead.

WALT
Yeah, cause you fight dirty.

Annie pinched his check facetiously.

ANNIE
Don’t be such a baby.

Annie stepped away from Walt and positioned herself directly opposite him. She pinned her arms to her sides. Walt shook his head. He inspected her posture. She was stood rigidly, her whole body was tense like a bamboo shoot; expect for her toes which wriggled nervously. He tickled her ribs in order to loosen her joints. Annie did her best to hold her position. The girl was terribly ticklish, and Walt knew this. It took every muscle in her body to fight the urge.

ANNIE (CONT’D)
Bawghhhhh! Ha! Ha! Please ha, stop!

Annie virtually exploded in laughter. Once Walt stopped she went limp within his arms.

WALT
Come on. You don’t need to be so tense. Loosen up your joints.

He helped Annie to her feet.

WALT (CONT’D)
Now what kind of dancing are we talking about?

ANNIE
I don’t know, bar competition dancing.

WALT
That could literally be anything. I guess I’m just going to have to show you everything.

Where most people reserved space in their brain for things like mathematics, physics, politics and business management. Walt used most of his storage space on remembering episodes of Hard Core Pawn and every dance fad from the past ten decades. He showed Annie how to dance to Jazz, Hip Hop, R & B, pop and most importantly of all 80’s. He even gave her a crash course in ballet.

ANNIE
How do you know all these moves? Where you a male stripper or something?

WALT
Kind of.

ANNIE
No way, you actually used to be a stripper?

WALT
No! My cousin was. I learned a lot of this shit from her.

ANNIE
Look. Thanks for showing me how to dance like Chris Walken and Michael Jackson, but what do I do if they play something… slower.

Annie leaned against Walter’s chest.

WALT
Well, you let… Phillip hold you like this.

He situated his hand along her hip firmly. She looked up, peering into his eyes. Her pupils virtually eclipsing the green in her eyes.

ANNIE
How do I hold you?

Before he even realized it, his head had leaned closer to hers by another two inches.

WALT
However you want.

She clasped her hand around the nape of his neck and steered him towards her lips. The pair kissed. It was the number one urge the two wanted to act out ever since their first conversation. A sense of relief came over the pair as they finally embraced it.

Back to the present day, where Walt had finally reached his destination. The airport of purgatory.

WALT (CONT’D)
Never thought I’d see this place again.

DARYL
You think the queues here are long wait till you see the duty free shopping.

This time Walter had a better understanding of exactly what was going on. Souls from all over queuing up to check in at judgement counters as far as the eye could see. Some would be staying put, less going to heaven and most going to hell. He hastily moved through the crowds in order to reach the exit. From Walt’s observation he noticed that no one else could see the exit save for him. He speculated it had something to do with him wearing a vessel. He spotted a small touch screen counter beside the exit. He inspected it, and soon learned it was a transport service of sorts.

DARYL (CONT’D)
Pick a re-spawn point.

WALT
Re-spawn? What is this Halo?

DARYL
This isn’t a halo, it’s a re-spawn counter.

WALT
I know that, Halo is this video game- Nevermind. So I can choose which city I’m revived in?

DARYL
City? You can narrow it down much more than that.

WALT
How much more?

Daryl began to poke away at the re-spawn counter.

DARYL
Step through and find out.

Walt raised an eyebrow. He had so many questions, but he knew Daryl didn’t have any of the answers.

DARYL (CONT’D)
Try not to die, again.

WALT
I’ll see you soon. Hopefully not that soon. I’d like to actually get some shit done before this vessel gives out.

DARYL
Hey, you been through Hell; what on Earth can stop you. I mean like seriously, Walt.

Walt waved a salute at Daryl before stepping through the gate. The moment he set foot out of the airport he was engulfed in darkness. At first he thought his eyes were closed, but when he realized he could see his hands in front of him it became clear; he was trapped. Trapped in a confined space. Perhaps a coffin? No it was too wide to be a coffin. He could stick his arms outward. Walt wondered whether Daryl had been playing him the whole journey. Maybe Daryl felt jealous of Walt’s meteoric rise through Hell. Luring Walt into a false sense of security just so that he could antagonize him once more. Whatever his motives were, Walt wanted out of the space immediately. So that he could reign swift and harsh justice upon the demon. He placed his palms out until they hit something solid. It felt like a wall. He caressed the surface until he felt something; they were grooves. He examined it with his fingers. It was a handle.

WALT
Oh. It’s a door.

Walt swung open the doors and burst through. He had done it. He had escaped the dark pit of a prison. More importantly he had escaped Hell, and the site welcoming him back to the realm of the living; was that of a middle aged naked man. Not only was he naked, but he was also bound to a bed in the spread eagle position; and situated in his mouth was a large red ball strapped to his head.

WALT (CONT’D)
What the fuck?

The man cried a muffled scream. He tried to kick free of his bounds, but he was well and truly tied down. Walt assessed the situation as best as he could. A man stripped naked and bound to the bed. This was clearly a home invasion.

WOMAN’S VOICE
What’s going on?!

Walt snapped to action. He grabbed the most dangerous looking object within the room, an Apple laptop.

WOMAN’S VOICE (CONT’D)
Scream all you want, no one can hear you with that gag in your filthy mouth.

Walt hid in the closet he was so desperate to escape from only moments ago. Entering was a petite woman wearing a black latex zentai. Walt peeked through the closet door. He took note of how the female captor taunted and humiliated her captive. Smacking him about and Verbally abusing him. But what really caught Walter’s attention was the foot long dildo strapped to the woman’s crotch.

LADY GIMP
Keep moaning and I’ll have to stuff your mouth with something other than that ball.

The Lady Gimp slapped the dildo between her thighs. The gagged man nodded to the closet, pointing to it with his abdomen.

BALL GAGGED MAN
Thuum suuumm bbmmdy umm duuuur!

The Lady Gimp turned her attention to the closet. Walt fearing for his imitation of a life, let his nerves get the better of him. He began to sing verses from Trapped in the Closet.

WALT
She walks up to the closet, gets closer to the closet. Now she’s at the closet, and she’s opening the closet.

The Lady Gimp swung open the closet doors and to her horror; out burst Walt brandishing a laptop like an axe. He swung at her like Babe Ruth. The laptop shattered against her skull. Sparks and screws fell across the room. Fortunately for her, she was wearing a full bodied suit so nothing got in her eyes. Unfortunately when she went down, her head hit the floor first; followed by her dildo. The gagged man screamed a muffled groan of anguish.

WALT (CONT’D)
Don’t worry man, I’ll get you out of here.

Walt first removed the ball from the man’s mouth; hoping he’d receive words of praise from them.

BALL GAGGED MAN
Take whatever you want, just please don’t hurt my wife anymore!

Oh shit thought Walt. It appeared Daryl had sent him to the kinkiest house on the street as opposed to Leatherface’s bedroom. He knelt down in order to inspect the woman’s injuries. She was alive but very unconscious.

WALT
You and your wife into role play?

BALL GAGGED MAN
Yes, we like to play out the scene from Pulp Fiction. Please, you don’t have to do this. I can tell you where the valuables are. I’ll even give you the combination to the safe.

WALT
Wait. You think I’m the home invader?!

BALL GAGGED MAN
You sneaked into our closet and attacked my wife!

WALT
No. All of this is an accident, a misunderstanding. I’m not even meant to be here.

BALL GAGGED MAN
What? a misunderstanding? You assaulted my wife!

WALT
You were bound and gagged and she had a foot long strap on!

BALL GAGGED MAN
What my wife and I do in our home is none of your business!

WALT
Yeah, again, I’m really sorry about all this.

BALL GAGGED MAN
I’m gonna kill you!

WALT
I said it was a misunderstanding!

BALL GAGGED MAN
Misunderstand this! I’m pressing charges! That is if you don’t die first from the beating I’m about to give you!

Walt was not the least bit phased by the man’s threats. That was until he saw the man become erect.

BALL GAGGED MAN (CONT’D)
Ignore that!

WALT
I-I can’t.

BALL GAGGED MAN
You’re some sort of peeping tom aren’t you! Fine then! Have an eyeful! Enjoy you bastard! Enjoy!

Walt firmly placed the ball gag back into the man’s mouth. He carefully stepped over the Lady Gimp, and began searching for an exit. He discovered the front door and paced towards it. As he unlocked the door, he could hear the man’s groaning turn into a sensual moaning. Walt cringed and slammed the door.

Walt was walking towards his cousin Emma’s place, when he caught his reflection in a shop window. He definitely looked like his former body, although now his pupils were blood red and his hair grey and lifeless.

As he journeyed to Emma he pondered on how much time had gone by since he last saw her. He’d spent years in hell. He wondered if she ever got married. Whether she had any kids. Possibly she named one of them after him. What he was most curious about was whether she was still as attractive as she was when he knew her.

He knocked on her door. Emma opened it. Walt was shocked to see how young she still looked. Emma on the other hand fainted from the mere sight of Walt. She later came to. Walt sat in a chair across from her bed smoking a joint.

WALT
Hey, gorgeous.

EMMA
Walt? It can’t be.

WALT
It can and it is, baby.

She couldn’t believe he was real. She saw his body. She mourned his loss.

EMMA
No you’re dead, I saw the body. I was at the funeral, I-

WALT
Wait, my funeral? What was that like?

EMMA
It was horrible, I cried all throughout it.

WALT
Yeah, of course. But who showed up? How many people?

EMMA
Well, Razor and Nash were there. A couple of other guys, I didn’t really recognise them.

WALT
What? Is that it? Are we at least talking double digits?

EMMA
No. Wait, you’ve been dead for three months, what’s going on?

Walt was disappointed to hear how very few people turned up. Emma mentioned how she couldn’t believe three months ago she thought he was dead. Walt picked up on this and was shocked to learn that on Earth he had only been dead for three months.

WALT
It’s only been three months?

Walt revelled in this revelation, it meant that the world was the same as when he left it. It also meant he hadn’t lost as much time as he thought.

EMMA
Who’s the crazy one here, me or you?

WALT
Emma, to you I’ve been dead for three months. But to me it’s been about seven or ten years.

EMMA
Walt, please just explain to me what is going on?

WALT
Well, like you said I was dead, but then I got better.

He told her he wanted her to have his possessions, Emma guessed as much. He asked if she still had his stuff. She brought out a brown long box, he frantically rummaged through it in search of something in particular. He pulled out a pendant. He remarked how he never thought he’d see it again.

WALT (CONT’D)
Thanks for keeping it.

EMMA
I know what it meant to you. I couldn’t bring myself to sell it. It’s a memory of you as well now.

Emma sat beside Walt. Still in disbelief she caressed his face. She then proceeded to slap him profusely. Not believing his story she assumed he must have faked his own death to escape some sort of debt.

EMMA (CONT’D)
I can’t believe you would do this to me. I spent two weeks crying over you, you son of a bitch!

Emma took another shot at Walt. He then spent the next two and a half hours, trying to explain his situation to her as best he could. She didn’t believe a word of it.

Walt told her he could prove it. He explained how he was about to void a contract from hell and he wanted her to come along. He asked her if she had a fax machine.

EMMA (CONT’D)
Fax machine? Are you serious?

He explained how the technology in hell was deliberately dated. Emma suggested an old office supply store not too far from her place. As they exited Walt was talking to her about why exactly he needed a fax machine, when all of a sudden he was hit by a car. Walt was dead again.

END OF PART ONE.