[hider= Eddy 1]
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The problem was Eddy's magic word, surely. [i]Alakazam[/i] didn't hit drunken High Schoolers the same way it did whatever wayward school kids wandered into the Magic Shop on a free Sunday. Then again, maybe it was his mistake in the first place, expecting the guy that had done six shots of Tito's in the last six minutes to keep track of his goddamn card. He'd forced the same one [i]at least[/i] three times but apparently holding "Three" and "of" and "Clubs" in your head all at once was just too much. 

He would have deprived the goober of his watch and the contents of his wallet, but he'd promised Vanessa there'd be no thievery, scams, deceit, or any other assorted tomfoolery. And Eddy was a man of his word, mostly, even when it came to drunken slobs who almost vomited on his brand new pack of Bicycles after missing the trick [i]three times[/i]... Well, maybe he could take the watch. Could have, anyway, if what meager crowd he'd assembled hadn't fled like rats from a sinking ship once they realized Eddy was not actually trying to set up a round of Hold 'Em.

That left Eddy to wander the party and watch the assembled mass of Mather's kids plow through every last drop of booze he'd scraped together at Vanessa's request. It seemed like the liquid courage was working his magic among the throngs of people, social groups mixed like cocktails, preps and populars shoulder to shoulder with burnouts and wild children, jocks mingling with nerds (if only for a precious few moments).   

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[hider= An unfortunate draft]
"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, you are about to behold: The Human Jack O'Lantern. Hold on to your pants." Eddy brought the matchbox close to his face. It was packet of the Wendy's ones, copped from some drawer or another in Vanessa's house. Shit. There was always something up with the sulfur on these, something that stuck in his lungs and his mouth days after the trick. Then again, he'd probably be inhaling more than his fair share of smoke anyway from pack-a-day-RJ... Aw, what the hell.

The match struck against the phosphorous strip and the smoke swelled up, rushing through Eddy's sinuses and deep down to his lungs as the fire surged from a mote into a tiny blaze. It went back, in a practiced motion over his lips to settle on his front teeth. Then, the breath, suck in just a little more and...

"Tough crowd," Eddy wheezed.

"You know how to entertain."

"My Mom [i]did[/i] always say I have a glowing smile."
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