SISTER LUCRETIA DISMAS,
CHOOSERS OF THE SLAIN!
He had a carefully styled beard, horn rimmed glasses, a beret and an affected vintage shirt, but his most notable accessory at the moment was the cheap tin fork sticking out of the back of his bloody hand.
The hipster had committed no crime other than trying to make conversation with Sister Lucretia Dismas, who was enjoying a 10 a.m. plate of cheese fries and a shot of patron accompanied by a Belgian lager. But the nun, who considered Rudy’s Bar & Grill on 44th her office, could not take his officious yammering, his thinly veiled condescension and wonder at her being a nun in a bar, his annoying opinions on fashion, film, fat people, religion, music, and his own looks, opinions she neither asked for nor engaged.
When she had enough, with reflexes born of years of fighting crime and supernatural menaces, the nun picked up her fork and put an end to his prattling. Continue reading