After Blaze had fallen into the room, Lucas had suggested they sit and perhaps crack open a bottle of bourbon he’d found squirreled away in his sister’s special liquor cabinet. Marjorie ?apul had always been an eccentric, and it was in her house, cluttered as it was with scrolls and knick knacks that ranged from stuffed bears to figurines of Saints to grotesque and politically-incorrect statues of lewd acts and the judgements of them, in which they sat. Lucas lived nearby in a townhome, or so he’d told them as they had gotten comfortable and had waited on Lucas’ man to bring the drinks, and he was considering opening up Marjorie’s house as a museum.