It was a wonderful life. Walking around the city with only a dare in the world, as so formally proposed by a member of the rare minority, Homo Mortis. It wasn’t often that Johnny met a skeleton, and even less often that one was pleasant to be around. What had started off as a simple conversation struck up between two guys over the delightful selection of ties at a local store had somehow managed to metamorphosize into a friendly little wager.

The challenge? To one-up the other man in a contest of dares. The stakes? Oh, it was too terrible to talk about. That’s why Johnny needed to win. He wasn’t so certain he could cough up the loser’s end of the bargain.

But first they needed to find someone to be a referee. Just to keep things fair and all, and to keep track of everything. The ref would ensure that any challenge was possible and would have the final say in any discrepancy or opinion clash.

Blue eyes locked onto a target.

“Hey,” he said to Clay, his mortally-challenged comrade, tapping the man’s shoulder to gain his attention. “What about that girl? She’s quite attractive and seems fairly honest. Let’s go talk to her!” he said excitedly.

Without waiting for an answer, Johnny strolled straight up to the girl in question. She was quite attractive; a nice tan, hair in a similar shade to his own, and wearing those cutoff shorts and that purple tank top very well. Oh yes, she was perfect! For the referee of course! For now, at least. She was looking at him; she seemed to be window shopping. Or perhaps she was just thinking about being in the park?

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Johnny said in a most charming Southern accent. “But would you mind doing me a favor?” His reflection in the window showed an equally charming smile, making him look all the more dashing in his tastefully tattered jeans, plain white t-shirt, and black tie. A lit cigarette was elegantly balanced between the fingers on his left hand. In his own opinion, he cut quite the reflection. “My friend here and Ah were wondering if you could serve as a referee for us in a friendly little wager we’ve got going on? Ya see....” Johnny swiftly summarized the terms of their bet, but left out the finale. For the fate of the loser should not be bestowed on such a beautiful woman; it might make her cry.

Clay agreed that life was indeed wonderful. Or it would he was a alive. So death was wonderful? Undeath? Whichever was the case Clay was enjoying it fully. He had started the day simply looking to purchase a new tie. One of his old ones had been damaged in an unfortunate caper involving an inept masked vigilante, a small annoying ghostly accountant named Steve and a newfangled machine designed for shredding paper. His new one had whimsical laughing skulls on it. How marvelously ironic as that?

The proposed challenge was both exciting and terrifying. The walking, talking mortally-challenged skeleton refused to lose. It would be inconceivable. Soul shattering. Simply the worst thing to happen to him since shuffling of the mortal coil. He would win the game by all means necessary. Or die trying. Well, to the best of his ability at any rate.

He looked down at the finger as it tapped against his clavicle and then followed it to the unsuspecting soon to be referee. Clay nodded sagely to his new friend and opponent. “I agree quite attractive and fairly honest. The most necessary quality’s to qualify as a judge and jury in this kind of wager.”

The skeleton followed his pyrotechnically enthusiastic friend over to the young lady and tried his best to loom in a friendly and none threatening manner. He certainly had the grin down, all though it was a little wider than most. But his expensively tailored suit gave him an air of dignity, coupled with the brand new whimsical-laughing-skull-tie which he felt gave him a playful look. His ever present fedora graced his head and was placed at a jaunty angle, exposing his openly grinning face.

He smoked happily on his pipe as Johnny explained their predicament to their brand new referee. The smoke escaping from his eye sockets and nasal cavity. He blew a few smoke rings, immensely proud at this achievement seeing as a decided lack of lips and breath had made this a little more difficult since his death. But like with all things Clay felt if you didn’t try you would never accomplish anything. He blew a few more to prove a point to no-one in particular, before knocking out the ash on the sole of his shoe and putting it away.

Clay nodded gravely at Mr.Oblivion's wise decision not to inform the young lady of the price of failure. To know might make her unwilling to judge knowing what she would be condemning the loser too. He gripped her hand in both of his “Please do us the honor of helping us in our hour of need my lady.” As he spoke his jaw moved up and down and the last of the smoke spiraled lazily out of his left eye socket. “For if you do you shall be saving at least one of our lives. And you know, stopping us from bickering.”

It was her one day off, the first one she's had in...well, this might actually be her first day off. And Charlotte was in desperate need of new clothes. Granted, her closet at home was overflowing and she had resorted to storing some of her shoes in her oven to make space. It's not like anyone used their oven anymore, right? It was the age of dining at restaurants and ordering Chinese food, so who was to judge her? But still. A girl could always use more clothing. 

The blonde's attention had been caught by a yellow sundress hugging a mannequin in the shop window, and she was searching high and low for a price tag. She needed to be more frugal with her tips, but that dress would look great with a pair of strappy black heels she had... or were they white? Regardless, she had shoes to match that dress and it was going to be hers. 

Without warning, a reflection appeared behind her in the glass, and she spun to face the stranger.

>>“Excuse me, ma’am, but would you mind doing me a favor?”

She was less focused on the words being said to her and more interested in the accent. She hadn't heard a Southern accent in awhile, and she was thoroughly intrigued. Maybe she'd have a legitimate reason to buy that dress after-all. The boy's friend, a.. skeleton? Since when were skeletons out and about wandering the streets? Well, it was New York. 

"Well," she finally spoke, retrieving a cigarette from her purse and placing it between her lips. "Who am I to refuse helping two rather handsome young..men settle a bet?" She winked at the skeleton and flicked her lighter, taking a drag from the cigarette as she leaned against the window behind her. "I'm Charlotte," she informed, blowing out a small stream of smoke. "And you two are?"

Johnny was in love. She--Charlotte--had a lighter. It produced the most beautiful flame he’d ever seen, a lovel cerulean that shifted to a sunny yellow before generating a crimson glow on the cigarette. The fire in the cigarette was brought closely to her mouth. It was a struggle to not stare at the burning end; bad manners and all.

”Ahhh,” hissed the flame as it was fed some of the contents of the cigarette. ”Delicioussss.”

Charlotte--her name began with char! Like burnt stuff! Perfect!--knew how to take care of fire. Oh yes. Oh yes oh yes oh yes. She was their referee.

”Ah’m mighty grateful,” Johnny said humbly as he brought his hands together, taking only the slightest care to prevent himself from dislodging his own cigarette. ”But you can me Johnny,” he grinned. ”A pleasure to meet ya, ma’am.” A small, fiery heart appeared at the end of his cigarette for just a moment. But he was ninety percent certain that the flaming cupid hovering over Charlotte’s head and aiming an arrow at him wasn’t real. He couldn’t feel it.

But back to business. He left the appropriate amount of time for Clay to introduce himself--politeness was the rule for this game. Of course, he’d cheat as much as he could, but he’d do it politely.

”So, uh, why don’t we get this show on the road? Now that we got ourselves a lovely referee, Ah don’t see a reason why we can’t.” he drawled, making an oblong shape in the air with his cigarette. Actually, he could think of a number of reasons to delay. But since they’d inevitably end up whisking Charlotte away with them, he’d find ample opportunities to get her phone number and such then. So let’s bogey. ”Mistuh Stahk, would you like to staht? he queried.

Clay looked at his friends antics in amusement as he introduced himself to Charlotte. He leaned casually against the display window and looked around at the people passing them in the street. A lot made a double-take when they realized that one of the three was a skeleton but in stubborn New York tradition carried on their business as though nothing had happened. Clay sighed happily enjoying himself and his current predicament. Despite the dire consequences of loss the contest would be fun. The perfect distraction for someone who had all the time in the world to enjoy himself.

“And I am Clayton Stark, gentleman skeleton and detective extraordinar.” Clay managed to be humble as he introduced himself and offered her a business card. “You have my thanks for agreeing to this. I shall try to make it as quick and painless as possible... for you.” Then he abruptly spun on his heels, finger tapping his chin as he looked at Johnny and the immediate area for inspiration.

“Of course I shall go first Mr.Oblivion.” Clay clapped his hands together cheerfully making a loud clacking sound. “Age before beauty and all that. Right the first challenge is an easy one. Stand on top of one of these parked cars. Once your up there you have three minutes to warn New York about the impending alien invasion. Make sure your nice and loud so everyone can hear you, and Miss Charlotte will judge your believability while I time you.” Clays head tilted to the right in amusement and added with a serious tone. “Well? Off you go then. The city needs to be warned.”

>>”Ah’m mighty grateful,”

That accent was going to be the death of her. Charlotte has always had a weak spot for accents. And cute boys. Cute boys that smoked. Cute boys that smoked that could.. have tiny hearts manifest on the end of their cigarettes? She spared an eyebrow to raise, and took a puff of her own cigarette. Had she finally met another elemental mutant? She'd have to do some poking and prodding throughout this adventure and find out. There was no doubt in her mind that the bag of bones in the suit was a mutant. That was the only logical explanation.

>>And I am Clayton Stark, gentleman skeleton and detective extraordinaire." 

Charlotte cocked her and received his business card, a look of confusion appearing on her face as she glanced over it before sliding it into her back pocket. What kind of detective work could a skeleton do? Did he deal with living matters or ones dealing more with the afterlife? "I wonder if he could talk to my dead cat for me," she mused to herself, a small smirk tugging at the edges of her mouth. 

The blonde turned her attention to Clayton as he proposed their first task: standing on top of cars and warning the city of it's impending, albeit false, doom. A simple task for an outgoing person. She personally wouldn't do it. It's not that she minded public speaking, but the looks of bewildered confusion from innocent people strolling down the streets would make her feel guilty. "Well go on!" she began, nudging Johnny with her shoulder. "The aliens could start attacking any minute. And if you need any special effects for a more realistic feel, I can make a fire hydrant explode or something." She shrugged. Why couldn't she have some fun with her mutation while the boys made fools of themselves? 

Why he did declare! It really sounded like Clay was confident in winning this little thing! As if! Johnny wasn’t going to let that happen! “Ah accept your challenge, sir, and since the lady here has no complaints Ah’ll begin at this minute,” he said triumphantly. Well, not that minute. Because one did not run off immediately after being nudged. He took a brief moment to wink at Charlotte before dashing to the edge of the sidewalk.

There, he looked for a nice car to stand on. Oh! There was one! It was nice and symbolic--a taxi. Representing the unification of the world through its multi-cultural clientele and normally immigrant drivers. And taxis took people to where they needed to go, so when the aliens arrived they’d have a quick getaway. Too bad there wasn’t a driver in the taxi. The panicked masses would have to wait before escaping.

He hopped on top of the taxi and struck a pose. It was reminiscent of Moses holding up the Ten Commandments before smashing them. He paused for effect, and to allow curious onlookers the chance to drink in his presence. Then he began.

“Neeeeew Yoooork!” he yelled, suppressing his accent in favor of one a Biblical prophet would be proud of. “Your time has come! The end is niiiiiiigh!” Johnny swept his hands out to his sides, a look of sadness about his face. Everyone was going to die unless they heeded his warning!

A little girl across the street could be heard asking her mommy why the funny guy was standing on a taxi. The mother gracefully scooted her child down the street and away from the crazy man. But a couple of hip teenagers had smiles on their face and video phones in their hands.

Good. And audience.

“The end of the world as you know it is coming to its end! But although some say it will end in fire, and others in ice, neither is the truth!” Robert Frost was no prophet. The amateur. “But it shall end via invasion from the highest of the heavens! From the far reaches of the Andromeda galaxy, the Shimmy-mama-cool-banks will arrive!” He clutched at his chest with his right hand, flinging his left hand out and losing the cigarette.

“Hide your children! Hides your wives! Because they’ll be abducting everyone up in here!” he pleaded, tears beginning to appear in his eyes. “You can not hope to stand up against their terrible might! Pray to your gods for mercy and kindness, for the Shimmy-mama-cool-banks have none! I know this, for I have become abducted by them! It was only through the intervention of a sympathizer, a being cursed with a scrap of goodness in his heart, that I was able to escape!”

The crowd had enlarged itself to some extent. There were still a bunch of people shaking their heads and just walking by, but at least a dozen people were standing safely on the other side of the street from Johnny’s rant. They were probably afraid of getting spittle on themselves or something. Smart. Smarter still if they’d listen to him and run.

But while everyone’s eyes were on him, Johnny had another thing going on. The flame inside his discarded cigarette peered out from its container. then, with a bit of encouragement from the prophet, it spread the wings of a butterfly and began flying closely to the ground, maneuvering itself out of sight until it was floating behind the taxi, only visible to Mister Stark and Mizz Charlotte. There, it slowly began to grow, slowly changing from the size of a dime to the area of a baseball, feeding itself on Johnny’s psychic energy.

Johnny thrust a hand out to his amused congregation. “I am a harbinger of this doom! They have weapons that can outpace a speeding bullet, are more powerful than nuclear missiles, and can disintegrate tall buildings with a single blast! We have no chance to defeat them! They will crush our militaries, obliterate our police, and desecrate the people! Your only hope is to ruuuuun!” A tear began to roll down his face. Oh no, they were all going to die!

“Don’t just stand there! Flee! flee before it’s too late!” he cried. why wouldn’t they listen? Why wouldn’t they save themselves? Why oh why oh why?!

“Show them! Tell them! Give them proof!” whispered the growing butterfly. It’s wingspan could’ve covered a dinner plate.

No, not yet! I can’t do it yet! They’re not ready! They won’t believe! Johnny thought.

“Do eeeeet!” the butterfly urged.

But then came a voice from the thirty or so people clustered before the spectacle. “You’re crazy, man!” said a youngish guy with a laugh. His pale emerald skintone glinted as he twisted to encourage his friends to laugh with him. They did so. The rest of the crowd, though, remained mostly silent, enraptured as they were in his words. He did not notice the many smiles and hidden grins on most of their faces. Everybody loved cheap entertainment.

As the butterfly continued to grow, Johnny stared down the nonbeliever. “You speak of things you do not understand, my friend,” Johnny said in a persuasive tone. “But it will not matter! For death shall fall upon the fools and the wise unless you run!” he boomed.

The butterfly burst into a thousand smaller versions of itself. In an instant they spread out and skimmed the surface of the street as they flowed under the taxi. In the middle of the street they formed two circles low to the ground. They began swirling around, losing their insectoid forms and sticking to orb-like constructs. Then they began to rise, quickly forming two pillars of swirling fire.

And a creature began to appear in each one.

Johnny stomped on the roof of the taxi and screamed for all he was worth. ”Run you fools! RUNNN!” His face was turning red and spit was flying everywhere. The taxi’s roof was taking a pounding.

Then the creatures leaped out of their vanishing pillars. Two beings comprised of scarlet flames glared out at the assembled people with blazing white eyes filled with hate. Nine feet tall and with wings like fallen angels, they appeared like devils, horns and all. The demons opened their misshapen maws and shrieked at the people with the crackling of flames.

The crowd began to scream. And run.

The emerald-hued lad was the first to go, but everyone else was quick to follow. Nobody wanted to be the first to fall before the wrath of the Shimmy-mama-cool-banks.

When the crowd was dispersed and out of site, the demons vanished, a whispering of glee echoing in Johnny’s head. All that was left were a few soot marks on the street where the demons had appeared and an single burning butterfly fluttering above Johnny’s head.

Shakily hopping off the taxi, Johnny ended up leaning back against it as he withdrew another cigarette from the pack in his back pocket. All that fire, what a rush! So exhausting.

The butterfly lit upon the cigarette and burrowed inside of it, enabling Johnny to release it from his mind’s grasp. ”Thank you,” it cooed. “No problem,” Johnny said after a moment to catch his breath. Gosh, his throat was hurting something fierce.

After a moment, he pulled himself together and walked over to Charlotte and Clay, throwing together a jaunty grin and plastering it on his face. ”How ‘bout them apples?” he said. ”Did Ah pass?”