<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Xwze2ZQ.png)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>John Constantine<br/>(Optional)<strong>WEARING:</strong>A trenchcoat, shirt, tie, slacks, loafers<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>Aug 21 2020<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>2130<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Heaven's Undercarriage, Mammoth City, NJ<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Being Obnoxious<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Zachary Zatara<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"That's the spirit!" John said as the siren's song lure of a story of drawing a dick on the caped crusader's voice lured Zachary inside. John drew one last drag on his cigarette and flicked the butt away, and it spun end over end before it hit ground and rolled over the edge.<br/><br/>John followed behind the bar, his presence unquestioned as the bartender began to stitch Zachary up. The Brit was looking over the different vodkas that the bar had on offer, and glanced over at the handsome young magician. "As it happens, squire, I was here on a few errands of me own. Us meeting here is serendipity." The blond man said in a cheeky tone. He set his pint glass down and grabbed a bottle of Absolut 100. John laid out a few shot glasses for Zachary and filled them up with vodka before setting the bottle on the bar.<br/><br/>"Wanted to see if anyone's seen the Wizard. Tried ringing the Rock, but no one's picking up. Or me old mate, Etrigan, but sod's made himself pretty scarce. Nothing to do with the under pants on the outside crowd. Crossed paths Batsie here and there . . . but that's on account of Gotham's foundation being cursed ground and its foundations being the bones of the damned and all that sort of rubbish." John said, making a few errant gestures before he took his pint up again.<br/><br/>John fished a pack of smokes out his coat, drew one out and lit up. He let out a puff of smoke. "I got suckered into one of those sob stories - dead mum and dad left some poor skirt a bunch of money but she's got to spend a night in a creepy old house. Turned out it was actually haunted, and the girl was part of a particularly gnarled branch of the Arkham family. Batty-boo had to stick his nose into things. 'Arr this is my city.'" John did a deliberately exaggerated imitation of the Batman's voice, playing up the gravelly nature of it and mixing in some sarcasm. "Pretty standard poltergeist haunting, but Bats gets himself knocked out while everything's flying around. One great big bonk on the noggin with the bust of Caesar and the Dark Knight's off with Morpheus." The Brit fished his phone out and flipped through images, eventually finding the one he wanted. "Sent the poltergeist off to the great beyond and while Bats is snoozing I got me magic marker out. The rest, as they say, is history."<br/><br/>The screen of the phone was turned around and presented to Zachary. It depicted the Dark Knight passed out on the floor of some posh mansion, insensate to the world, with the black ink of a magic marker creating a penis and scrotum on the Caped Crusader's left cheek. An excessive number of lines had been drawn on the scrotum to indicate a truly epic amount of scrotal hair, and lines emitting from the glans were intended to illustrate ejaculation on the Batman's lips.<br/><br/>John had a laugh, but his heart was not really in it - his attention was drawn across the room. John was looking past Zachary to a booth with a single occupant: an older male in blue suit with a blue hat. For all of those initiated into the secrets of the magical world, he needed no introduction, but despite being known by all, he was a stranger -<em>the</em>Stranger.<br/><br/>But what troubled Constantine most was that the Phantom Stranger was sitting alone. "See a flat-foot hiding 'round, Squire?" He asked Zachary, looking around the bar. "Stone faced old copper . . . no? Oh, bollocks." Constantine said, an undercurrent of fear running through his voice.