Harry sat on a rock near the smoldering ruin of the Roach Motel. A pile of Kleenex boxes sat too his left and a mound of soaking wet paper sat to his right. Harry sobbed and mumbled continuously.
"I was a contender... I coulda been somebody... I had a chance to win the Motel Proprietor of the Year Award. But now this black mark on my record will ruin me... I have nothing left, but a pile of wood, plaster, glass, and a bunch of cheap torn paintings."
Harry blew his nose loudly.
A hand fell on his shoulder. "Have you a room?"
Harry turned around. "What the fuck do you think, asshole?"
A tall, thin, pale skinned man stood over him, with long black hair, the center of which stood straight up and was dyed (it must have been dyed, right?) mauve. He wore black flowing garments, and his eyes were a piercing violet. At his side hung a giant curved sword.
"Oh God, not another one," said Harry.
"Another what?" asked the stranger.
"Uh, nothing, nothing at all." Harry got up and backed away from the guy, tripping over the remains of a drain pipe.
"Have care, friend. Tell me, is this the Holiroche Hotel?"
"Uh, close. It was the Holy Roach Motel. Why?"
"I was told to come here. I am on a quest, you see."
"Uh huh? Uh uh, I don't see."
"You needn't. My name is Kyle Te'Arashae. I need a room."
"Look, I'd love to help ya pal, but my hotel's been wiped out for the second time this week, so, uh, I don't think there's going to be a motel here anymore, alright?"
"You're giving up?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Typical human reaction." The man walked off.
"Wait a minute!" Harry chased him. "What do you mean, `typical human reaction'?"
"Your race has a disturbing tendency to give in when adversity strikes. Your ability to swim upstream is lamentably poor."
"What, you think we just roll over and die whenever life throws a curve?!"
"Something like that."
Harry stood in front of the guy. "Listen to me, you punk-rock road kill! We have more drive, more will to succeed than you've ever seen, bucko! I'm going to build a hotel here that'll make the Astoria look like a Venture Inn. And if you don't believe me, you'd better just stay out of my way!"
Kyle punched him lightly in the arm. "That's the spirit, Harry. Knock'em dead."
"Wha... How do you know my name?"
"I was told to ask for Harry at the Holiroche Hotel. Since there isn't anyone else around, I assumed that was you."
"Told to ask for me? By who?"
"Oh, a little bird."
"You're not getting off that easy - birds don't talk. Now, who was it?"
"Didn't you just have a conversation with a Phoenix the other day?"
"Shit... Ok you win."
Kyle wandered across the field and Harry headed back to his smoldering ruin with the dreams of a huge resort.
