“How nice. What d’you want?” I said as I swigged my beer and glanced over at Mo’Lock.

“I . . . I mean we . . . are—” Horn-rimmed stuttered.

Ponytail Daniels broke in with a cocky snort. “What Dr. Walters is trying to say, is that we need to ask you for a favor, Mr. McDonald.”

“I don’t do favors.”

Ponytail rolled his eyes in a way that told me this kid was used to getting his way, which really pissed me off. A geek is one thing, but a pushy geek demanded a severe beating. I was about to inform him of this when he broke in.

“Maybe we should start with a question,” he said, “Do you believe in the soul, Mr. McDonald?”

I slammed down my beer can. “What kind of goddamn question is that?! Do I believe in souls?”

I acted extra angry to watch them jump. Mo’Lock tried his best not to smile.

Horn-rimmed was sweating like a dorky pig and I could see Mr. Ponytail was getting annoyed. Good. Fuck ’em. Then he took a breath.

“It’s a fairly basic question. Do you believe in the human soul?”

I shrugged. “I believe in filet of sole, soul food, and I believe that the sole of my boot is about to become the biggest fucking suppository in the world if you don’t get to the goddamn point,” I said, and stood.

They were stunned, so I used the time to throw Mo’Lock a wink and grab the bottle from the bag. By the time I swigged a few and returned to my desk the schmuck brothers were ready to talk biz.

Horn-rimmed talked first. “We’ve heard about you for a long time, read about your exploits in Speculator Magazine, and we know that you have a sort of expertise in a particular area of work. We know that you have had encounters with . . . eh . . .”

“A lot of weird shit,” I cut in.

Ponytail nodded and took over. “We are in the process of some very ‘weird’ research, Mr. McDonald, and we would like to hire you to act as an advisor.”

I looked over at Mo’Lock, then back to the boys. “What exactly are you guys doing? What sort of ‘research’?”

They looked at each other. Ponytail nodded as if telling Horn-rimmed that it was okay to tell.

Horn-rimmed looked at me sheepishly. “I’ll have to ask you one more time, Mr. McDonald. Do you believe in the soul?”

I groaned. “God almighty. If it’ll get you to the fucking point, yes, I believe, I believe!” I moaned.

To my side Mo’Lock giggled. It wasn’t some girlish giggle, but a raspy dead man’s convulsion.

Ponytail seemed relieved by my sudden surge of belief and dropped the bomb. “My partner and I have devised a method by which we can capture the essence of a human being, the soul.”