Pleased To Meet You, Hope You Guess My Name
Who: Bartleby and Erin Where: The Forsythe and Family Funeral Parlor When: A little bit after lunch Why: Because he's got to meet the competition of course!
Heading over to his chief, well pretty much only, competitor's office with a plate full of freshly baked cookies might have seemed a little odd to anybody else, but to Bartleby it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. They were in the same little town after all, and just because they had to compete didn't mean they couldn't be friendly about it. It was just business and hey, there were plenty of fresh bodies around for everyone...between him and the demons he was sure of that fact. Supposedly the place had been family owned for quite some time, and the last thing that Bartleby wanted to do was to cast someone out on the street. Still, better them than him would be his final sentiment, and if the Forsythes couldn't handle a little competition, then that was just sad.
Entering the office he looked about, the place seemed like usual funeral home type of fare. Setting was old but well kept to allow for visitors to feel some sort of comfort, but had that air of professionalism that anyone in the death field needed to exude. Standing at the desk he placed his cookies down and began to look around, not entirely sure how one was to get attention here. Were they in a hotel he'd ring a little bell and someone would swoop down to snatch up his bags and help check him in. Sadly in funeral homes little bells were somewhat frowned upon, Bart never really understood why...oh well, standing there politely he began to whistle a cheerful tune as he eyeballed the area further quite sure that someone would show up eventually. I mean, death doesn't exactly take a holiday now does it?