the place is dead. there's only clay and dwight sitting at the bar with the owner, harry, a balding hep cat with a scraggly tuft of beard. and, in a booth, kid saylor, a cocky 20-year-old, necking with a pony-tailed teenager.
on the tv, dr. pretorius delivers a toast with inimitably ripe enunciation: "to a new world of gods and monsters!" dwight and harry and betty all laugh.
the monster holds a skull in both hands and happily growls, "wiiife." betty, shudders, for real this time.
finally, the bride comes to life. she looks up, down, left, right, uncertain who she is. the monster stares tenderly. "friend?" he timidly touches her arm and she screams.
betty turns off the motorola.
clay presses through the saturday night crowd. clay cranes his neck to scan the crowd.