“And this is my partner, Triantiwontig-hng-gahahOW, Gus!”

Gus stepped smoothly into the breach left by his writhing, squeaky partner. “Burton Guster, ma’am.” He deepened his voice slightly; it made an awesome counterpoint to Shawn’s high-pitched drama-queening behind him.

The client shook his hand, glancing over his shoulder to where Shawn had stopped whimpering and had apparently decided to sulk in silence. “Is your friend okay?”

“He’s just fine,” Gus assured her. “It’s the spirits. Sometimes they make him forget things. Or move him into the path of my elbow. It’s a harsh existence, but it’s a path he chose to follow.”

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