When he’s working, Chumley goes by the name of Big Crunch and does a Neanderthal that’s the envy of half the barbarians at the Bazaar. On his own time, however, his polished charm has solved a lot of problems for us . . . almost as many as Aahz’s bluster has gotten us into.
“Oh, come on in,” the Dispatcher grumbled. “Enter freely and of your own accord and all that. I never could turn my back on somebody in trouble. Guess that’s why I’ve never traveled the other dimensions myself. They’d eat me alive out there.”
“Thanks, Vilhelm,” I said, slipping past him into the office before he could change his mind. “You’ll have to forgive my partner. He really isn’t always like this. Being on death row hasn’t done much for his sense of humor.”
“I guess I’m a little edgy myself,” the vampire admitted. “Strange as it sounds, I’ve been worried about you folks . . . and your motor-mouthed friend who’s been keeping me company hasn’t helped things much.”
I did a quick nose count of our troop.
“Wait a minute,” I frowned. “Who’s been waiting for us?”
Now it was Vilhelm’s turn to look surprised.
“Didn’t one of you send out for a werewolf? He said he was with you.”
“Aahh! But I am! My friends, they do not know me yet, but I shall be their salvation, no?”
With that, I was overwhelmed by a shaggy rug. Well, at least that’s what I thought until it came off the floor and threw itself into my arms with the enthusiasm of a puppy … a very large puppy.
“What’s that?!.” Aahz said, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Skeeve, can’t I leave you alone for a few days without you picking up every stray in any given dimension?”