"Trust me, when you've been dead as long as me, you become less concerned with going on crazy adventures and more content with just rowing a boat, playing cards with your spider pals, and scaring hapless slack-asses with someone else's voice every once in awhile," he told them. Having been reminded of Scott's payment, he scraped what was left of his bony fingers against the side of his skull, scratching an itch.

"It's a simple life -- er, unlife!" he added with a bark of a laugh. "Guess you could say I work here, but it's not exactly work when you're basically doing what you always do, am I right?"

Of course, then Stinky had to flick a pen right down his ribcage, until it got lodged against one of his pelvic bones. "Nice," he said with a hollow smile aimed at shot's source. "By the way, I've got the sweetest pet for you to meet sometime -- if you're not allergic to sea beasties, anyway. You'd love her. She's a riot at parties."

Finally, they reached the dock at the other shore, and the small boat came to a halt. "Looks like we made it!" he announced. "Can't guarantee safe passage every time, but, hey, that's life. Just try not to die tonight, yeah?"