[Depraved]

She threw her hands up in the air, and went back over to the bureau.
"Cheever...Drifty...Driftwood...whatever the fuck your name is...how did you get the skin off of Clem's face in one piece?"
She looked at him with frustrated rage.
"Every time I try, it just comes apart under my knife."
"Fuck! Fine, call me whatever you want!"
He walked over to where she leaned against the bureau, and got himself another beer. He took a long drink, and wiped his face with the back of his hand.
"I don't even know your name."
She pouted at him, and punched lightly on the arm.
"That's cause I haven't told you, silly!"
Sully moaned again, and started babbling.
"Money's in the bathroom...in a box under the sink..."
The two stared at each other for a moment, then began to cavort around the room. Chasing him with her knife in hand, Vera-Ellen made no real effort to cut him.
"You fucker! Tell me your real name!"
He dodged another slash, and ducked low to try a leg sweep. She jumped out of range, giggling madly.
"Not until you tell me yours!"
Sully moaned again.
"The guns...the guns are in a box...check under the couch..."
They both ignored him.
They giggled and hooted for a while, racing around the room after one another, skidding and skating around in the spreading puddle that surrounded what was left of Clem. Vera-Ellen was ecstatic. She hadn't had this much fun in years. Not since she was a kid. She squished back across the sodden carpet, wandering back over to where Sully lay bound on the bed.
"You know, buddy; he isn't looking so good."