Episode NotesTwo cold blooded killers are about to crash a dinner party, but the main course may be far more upsetting than anything they've cooked up.The Dinner Guests by Shane MigliavaccaMusic by Ray Mattishttp://raymattispresents.bandcamp.comProduced by Daniel WilderGet Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspookySupport us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsomeContact Us/Submit a Storytwitter.com/WeeklySpookyfacebook.com/WeeklySpookyWeeklySpooky@gmail.comThis episode sponsored by HenFlix.comFor everything else visit WeeklySpooky.comTranscription:Orville Trench admired his reflection in the car window. He missed his long black ponytail and beard. His hair was cut short now. He ran a hand over his smooth chin. He’d had that beard so long, it was like cutting off a limb… but it had to go. It was time to get a new car too. The old one would be drawing too much attention soon.Cherry Kowalski, the love of his life, appeared in the reflection. Her eyes were large, piecing and dark… dark to match her long, wild black hair, streaked with purple and green, that hung to her shoulders. She twirled one of long strands of hair around her index finger. Hanging around her neck was a simple silver necklace, a small plastic baby arm dangled from it. “You look good.” She said.“I didn’t ask.” “Fuck you.” She laughed loudly, giving her lover double middle fingers. Orville spun around, grabbing her by the shoulders. His eyes narrowed. “Oh yes. Yes indeed.”He scanned the parking lot of the convenience store. There where only three cars here: an old pickup truck, a rusting black Camaro and an fairly new SUV. Not much to pick from. Shouldn’t be that many people inside. He looked up at the sign over the door. It read: QUICK SAVE MART. It would be quick all right. He couldn’t wait to get out of East Fuck wit New York.      Orville touched the cold steel under his leather jacket. A Colt Trooper Mk III, like the sheriff carried in Walking Tall… the 70’s one. He loved that film, not that shit remake with the Nancy boy wrestler. It hung from a shoulder holster under his jacket. A flaming devil face was emblazoned across the jacket’s back.   Just as he expected, the door had a little bell that chimed when it opened.He sized up the store. Orville liked to think of himself as a hunter, though what he hunted you didn’t buy a license for. The store was typical; five aisles of various overpriced crap, cold drinks in the back and some not so fresh looking coffee. The kid behind the counter, who couldn’t be older then twenty, didn’t even look up from his cell phone when they entered. He was dressed to the nines in Eminem castoffs. Another white boy wannabe… he’d be easy enough. Picking through the beer was a bear of a man. Dirty coveralls, baseball cap and a long graying beard… had to be the pickup driver. This one could be trouble. He’d be the first.The last customer was a young woman; mid-twenties. Two in the afternoon and she’s wearing fucking pajamas. Orville shakes his head. Two bad for her, she wasn’t his type. “Anything look good to you hon?” He asks Cherry.“Slim pickings.” The big man came up to the counter, carrying two six packs. He sets them on the counter. It took a couple seconds before the kid looked up from his phone.“That all Mr. Scott?” The kid asked.“For now. You know that damned phone gonna turn you into a zombie Jimmy. All you kids just stare at ‘em all the time. Sucking your minds out.”“Not just kids doing it. Seen plenty of adults too.”Scott opens his wallet. “Goddamn right about that. The wife is always doing that Facebook shit. Why you think I got these for tonight?”The two laugh. Cherry makes a mock vomiting face to Orville. Orville mouths “Which one?”Cherry nods towards large Mr. Scott.“Gonna start off Friday night right.” Scott says. Cherry slides up next to him. She leans against the counter, showing Jimmy her cleavage. His eyes go right to it.“How’s about speeding up all the talky talky?” She says.“Excuse me young lady.” Sco