The newcomer disappeared into the throng in a move that would have made Mist proud, but not before bumping into Kevichella and proclaiming “dude, you smell of pee.” Then he was gone, like a hand into a sock into a glove.
Kevichella stumbled out of the rapidly parting crowd, still coughing and spluttering, although at least his new tuxedo was clean. It was a feast for the eyes, bright orange, no, atomic orange that seemed to only accentuate his ginger hair, turning him into some sort of human glow. The yellow liquid still attacking his face only amplified this effect.
“Ahh thanks Jives, I don’t know what I would do without you,” he thanked his recently appeared butler. “Well, I do... I’d have to make my own cups of tea, but still, you’re indespensible.”
“You are too kind,” the butler droned before disappearing in a flash of green light. Kevichella made a mental note to tell him to change it to a more somber colour in future... it clashed with his tux.
He wiped himself down and was about to go in search of the urine avenger wen he remembered what he had saw down in the hole. He strode confidently back into the crowd, losing confidence with each step, until he was more or less creeping through them, but when he got to the edge again, all eyes were on him.
“Ladies, gentleman, undead..” Nick tipped him the nod “down there are two graves as Mister Must proclaimed earlier, one with a..” he consulted the script.. “a periscope.” He sighed. Periscope? Oh dear. He continued. “Well, as Must rather too conveniently timed his exit,” he stared at Mist, counting the seconds...1...2...3... aye that should be intimidating enough “the heavens, or should I say God’s lav opened and rain began to descend onto the grave.” He looked around at each and every gathered face, surveying their reactions, but when he got nothing, he continued. “The periscope disappeared, and was replaced by an umbrella, and I heard the owners voice, one that I think we all know.”
Who was it?! the crowd were supposed to scream in unison, but they had all turned back to what they were doing. He carried on regardless, needing to spill the words like someone earlier needed to spill their bowels.
“It was Sly.”