The Puritan.

'You cannot stop the food of life. It is Ungodly. Look around us. Have you not proven my point?'

Her shot's not bad; four bullets hit him with a dull thud. He's wearing armor. The coward's way around.

'Walk with me, child.'

The Puritan is delighted. He laughs to see such initiative. He lifts his cloak and climbs over the bodies to approach her, turning to see the dent of the grenade against the earth behind them.

'A far cry from the Lands Between, isn't it?'

he walks down the battlefield, his path the dust where the blood has not yet dried. he and his crows are blessing the dead.

'I believe, gentlemen, that seafood is back on the menu . . . '

Crows cackle and unfurl in the sky, forming words their audience cannot understand. Luckily, we are not the audience. It's code. They hark alarms. In Shady Sands, a bird dead on the ground being poked by a kid with a stick suddenly awakens to carry the swift and terrible hand of mercy back home.

then suddenly, like a problem child with a very fragile snow globe, the whole world begins to shake.

And what is Woman, if not contained?

( The Puritan shakes Alice's hand, staining it red. ) To go with your hair, fair ladies.

Now is revealed the true nature and purpose and power of the game offence. There is cause for alarm, the need for harmful--

( The woman-thing wants to speak. One look from the dark man in the hat stops her. )

The crows shall give you the name. These sin-beds, they are so... Delicate. One man is enough to make them all burn. Let their true skins show at last.

Is she good for it? You have been childish.

You speak my language, sir.

The city they call New Vegas. A hotbed of sin; each man may have his own neon sign there. I do not care for the hookers or the drink, no sir.

Their instruments of violence, the machines. They must be burned. How easy it is to change a story with one death.

( The Puritan is uninterested. His hand is already red. Outside he sees the crows getting bored. )

I am going to speak candidly with You, and You are going to listen. Let us do away with pretense, and talk war, as men do.

( Lights out. He lights a match, and the wallpaper peels at the corner. )

I have traveled a long way to be with you, boy. Stand up and look at me.

A fine specimen. @chewingtobacco.bsky.social

I thought as much.

( He looks around. ) Well? Answer the lady.

( A resounding yes. )

We are no cult. You cannot join us.

The land has grown impure and wicked, with impossible ideas far above its station. It is the dirt to which we must return, and nothing else. The age of excess is choking all of us. Let us clear the air, in many ways.

Because my good lady that is a woman's job, yes ma'am, and these here gentlemen may attest that if you so wish. I do not care for simple women, and I know that you find me very persuasive, and wish to keep my attention most closely. You would like to entertain me very much.

Is that so? Then impress me.

We look for everyone and leave no stone unturned, no path unwalked, so that all my know our name, our faces, and our message. All have their part to play in turning the wheel, Alice.

You are looking for something. You are lost. You know the solution, however.

I only smoke cigars myself. One of my fine gentlemen will help you, I'm sure.

You must forgive them. They get unseemly in the presence of beautiful women. All good men have a sinner inside them.

Too much showmanship. There must be no frills.

What do you know of your mother?

No, it is not. There are those who seek to control us in the name of progress. Will you let them?

Trouble, Alice?

The land is sick.

Look into my eyes.

The wheel is red with you, my lady.

The Duchess of Malfi.

Yes, I see it in your eyes.