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the
Earth. The bar was a disaster. Bouncers carried those who couldn’t
carry themselves, leaving them in the field behind the parking lot.
Several tables were splintered. Bottles and glasses smashed. Quite
a few laws broken. But no one was seriously injured, and most of
the damage was superficial.
    During the show, Loki had
found Rich. He was sauntering out of what could have been his
office, or a closet. From the looks of it, he’d just finished doing
a whole lot of coke with a cheap whore. She was hanging on his arm
and had makeup smeared nearly down to her overabundant cleavage.
The smile on her face said she wasn’t minding her job at the
moment.
    Loki figured things could
go either way. There was a full-scale mob in his bar, and a band
was playing that he hadn’t scheduled for the night. He braced
himself for the worst.
    As it turned out, Rich was
in a benevolent mood. So, rather than working on an escape plan,
Loki casually introduced them all after the “show.”
     
    “ I don’t know who the hell you are. But that was great,” Rich
said.
    “ We’re Babylon,” Lilith said casually.
    Loki eyed her. Dionysus and
Jesus shrugged simultaneously.
    “ Don’t think I’ve heard of you. Anyhow, I’ve got to take
damages out...But I’ve got somethin’.” Rich said. He held out a wad
of bills that simply insisted on re-rolling themselves into little
cylinders when left alone.
    “ Sorry about the mess,” Loki reiterated.
    “ Are you kidding?” Rich laughed. His face was redder than
Santa Claus. “Our bar is cleaned out. Maybe some of it was on the
house, but I’ve never seen anything like that. And I was at the
original Woodstock. Fuck man! What a fucking party!” he clapped his
hands together.
    “ I tend to have that kind of effect on people,” Lilith
said.
    “ I can see... that.” He fumbled for something witty to say but
found nothing, so he just moved on. “We’ll be closing soon, though.
I’d offer you drinks, but...”
    “ No worries,” Lilith said. When Rich sauntered off, she leaned
in and spoke conspiratorially. “That worked out nicely. You guys
want to go pro?”
    “ Guys?” Jesus asked sharply.
    “ Bipeds,” Lilith said. “Sorry.”
    “ What else are we going to do?” Cody asked.
    “ Looks like we’ve already got some gear,” Loki said, motioning
towards all the equipment the drunk band had left
behind.
    “ Sure.” Jesus looked around the room, frowning. “I’m
hungry.”
    Loki sighed and handed some
of the cash to Jesus.
     

     
    Trevino was signing
paperwork for a clerk. The clerk was staring over his shoulder, his
mouth half-hanging open to reveal a set of buck teeth.
    A children’s chorus stood
in front of the Motel, singing an off-key version of Annie’s
“Tomorrow.”
    “ Length of stay?” the clerk finally asked.
    “ Two days. When’s checkout?” Trevino answered. The clerk
didn’t respond. “Hey. When’s checkout?”
    “ Eleven. ...Is that what they mean by mongoloid?”
    Trevino finally looked over
his shoulder at the procession outside. “Mongol...?”
    The children’s chorus was
set up on temporary bleachers. They were developmentally disabled
to various degrees, but all of them were unquestionably the
happiest children to butcher “Tomorrow.” Behind, a banner read “The
Holding Hands Chorus! WE LOVE YOU!” A small crowd of parents and
onlookers clustered around the children, waving miniature American
flags. Trevino also noticed a mobile broadcast HQ and the expected
entourage of press, cameramen, and interns that came along with
such a media travesty.
    “ Downs. Not mongoloid,” Trevino said.
    “ So what’s mongoloid mean?”
    “ Downs. But it’s insulting.”
    A technician in overalls
walked up to the mobile broadcast HQ from behind, opened the
driver’s door, and hopped in.
    The clerk furrowed his brow
in thought. “So ‘mongoloid’ is like ‘nigger,’ but for
retards.”
    Trevino fixed the clerk
with a level stare. Behind