Ghoul vs kirby

His bachelor party the night before had gotten interesting on the walk back to Billy’s place, when we happened across a ghoul terrorizing an old woman in a parking lot.
It hadn’t been a pretty fight. Mostly because we’d all had too many stripper-induced Jell-O shots.
Billy’s injuries had all been bruises and all to the body. They wouldn’t spoil the wedding. Alex had a nasty set of gashes on his throat from the ghoul’s clawlike nails, but he could probably pass them off as particularly enthusiastic hickeys. Mitchell had broken two teeth when he’d charged the ghoul but hit a wall instead. He was going to be a dedicated disciple of Anbesol until he got to the dentist.
All I had to remember the evening by was a splitting headache, and not from the fight. Jell-O shots are far more dangerous, if you ask me.
Billy’s best man, Kirby, had gotten unlucky. The ghoul slammed him into a brick wall so hard that it broke both his legs and cracked a vertebra.
“We handled him, didn’t we?” Billy asked.
 “Let’s ask Kirby,” I said. “Look, there isn’t always going to be a broken metal fence


Side Jobs, Something Borrowed, Page 30