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Motel Along Route 666

Mags was in a run-down motel room. She was sitting at a small table, the lamp on, a pair of guns stripped on the table before her. She was in the process of cleaning them when there was a rap on her door.

"The winter winds are blowing," a feminine voice said beyond the door. "It's time for hell to freeze over."

Mags stopped what she was doing. Placing the gun on the table, she looked at the door. She got up from the table and grabbed the pump action shotgun that was on the bed. She brought that to the door and peered out. It was Lucy. Maggie unlocked the door and walked away.

"What do you want?" Mags asked, facing away from the door.

"Well now, isn't this a way to treat an old friend," Lucy said as she strolled into the motel room. Lucy, her hair a flowing red, her eyes with a reddish tinge.

"Since you're old and I ain't your friend to begin with," Mags said as she sat at the table, picking up where she last left off. "What can I do you for?"

Lucy looked about the motel room with distaste. "I see that your taste in rooms has improved... slightly."

"I did my duty," Mags said. "I called in once it had occurred. What needs fixing or changing?"

"Well," Lucy said. She sat down on the bed. "It's of a personal nature. I want you to kill my brother."

"And this will correct this alignment?" Mags asked.

"No," Lucy said. "But it will make me very happy."