Deadlands Noir Extinct in the Big Easy

A Promotion

Bishop John Laval
7887 Walmsley Ave.
New Orleans, La.

Fr. Sean P. Ryan
724 Camp Street
New Orleans, LA

Dear Fr. Ryan,
In response to your last report, my superiors within the Order of St. Michael have contacted Einsiedeln Abbey and discussed the events in Indiana and, in particular, at St. Meinrad Archabbey.

It has been determined that St. Meinrad must be re-staffed. To that end, Fr. Franz Goetz, Abbot of St. Joseph Abbey in New Orleans has been moved to St. Meinrad as the new Abbot there. We will assist the Benedictine order by providing staff for Fr. Goetz.

You are to take over the now vacant position of Abbot at St. Joseph Abbey. As abbot you will also be responsible for the administration of the attendant Church and Seminary.

My superiors and I have been quite impressed with your success as of late, even if you have been using resources from outside the Order. The fact that you have managed to recoup your current and future operating costs is even more impressive. It is our great hope that you will continue your success in your new position.


John Laval

Bishop New Orleans

Im not dating a Zombie

Well, there was a lot of good news lately. The major thing is that Amy is not a zombie…great news! Turns out that the zombie thing was just a glamour to get under our skins. I gotta say that that plan probably backfired because Sven nearly singlehandedly tore apart the fifth floor of the Speedway pagoda trying to avenge the nonexistant corruption of his woman. Sven is not someone that you piss off lightly. I had an idea when I saw his bloody knuckles. I think that a Hand of Glory (or two) could be created from his fists…after his death of course. I bet when used they could give someone a hell of a beating. Something to think about…

Nickies Soft Side
A letter dated two days after the Indy 500

Mom, Dad. Been a while, hasn’t it? I don’t know what kind of parties you’re getting invited to up above, but down here it’s getting a mite hectic.

There’s plenty of good going on, don’t you worry. I just helped take second place in THE Indianapolis 500, I’ll have you know! Walked away with a fair bit of money and a lovely lady by my side. I don’t expect she’s the marrying type, seeing as her ex is our preacher man.

My friends and I are doing a lot to keep busy, too. Anyone up there hear of Kali? She’s big in India, WAS big in Indiana for a spell. She’s gone now. She might be a bit ticked at us, so if she gets around up there, maybe it’s best if you two don’t name-drop, know what I mean?

I learned something else, too. I know why you both died. Everyone tried to tell me otherwise, but it’s my fault. I got this destiny nonsense around me, to hear the demon tell it, that says your 666-buckshot cocktail, Momma, I’m supposed to turn it into something that really hurts them what do nasty things on the spirit side of things.

I’ve got some options now, and a small mountain of ghost rock that says those demons that… that took you away won’t get to do it for much longer. I hope that makes you rest easier, at least.

I’m so sorry my dumb future kept you two from having one.

Riding out of Indy

Ahhh, the trip to Indianapolis. It should have been a relaxing vacation. Nickie was the ride along mechanic in the Indianapolis 500. Claude was determined to win the State Fair’ Pie Competition.

Then there was the attempted kidnapping in Union Station of Father Ryan‘s old flame. There was stamping out a statewide Kali cult. The Chicago mob tortured a deer woman and tried to gift her to the mob boss. And finally… the crossroads demon that had been needling Nickie since his mother’s death revealed that he was destined to slay an Elder God.

Last chance to escape destiny, big daddy.

Sven responded to the situation by turning the demon to ash.



Wow! I have seen a couple of race tracks in my time but this is most definitely the biggest one! 2-1/2 miles long! There must be at least 100,000 people here. I think I can understand now why Nicky is so excited about this race. It truly is spectacular. Here is a picture Mary Kate took of the pole sitters!

Best Day EVER
The internal monologue of Officer Ceruthers

I know the good Lord would want me to think of all the poor souls in danger right now and how I need to make sure I get as many as I can out of here safely but I just talked to THE Charlie Brockman! The man has run more races than I’ve ever seen, AND he announces for them. I swear, that man is gonna be a national name someday, you just see if he don’t!

And I got so excited I almost forgot about this weird fellah I met. He dressed a might strange but he came up to me so polite and all. He said he was hungry and so much so that he was willing to trade for just a morsel. I gave him the croissant Dolly gives me every day, and his face just lit up! (Literally. Like I said, weird.) He gave me this odd looking shotgun but told me it would do wonders if I just called its name right. So weird.

Are those g-g-g-GHOSTS?!?!? Oh Lord, I hope this new gun does something…


…I do believe that ghost took a violent path through that desk. I’m gonna tell Dolly to NEVER let me leave without one of her croissants! WHOOO!


Damage field


This Just In

Transcript from the radio broadcast of the 1932 Indianapolis 500, announced by Charlie Brockman and Graham McNamee.

Graham: Welcome back to live coverage of the Indianapolis 500, folks! We just passed the 300-mile mark a minute ago and I gotta tell you, Charlie, we have seen some spectacular stuff already.

Charlie: You’re right there, Graham. From the very beginning of this race, drivers and their mechanics have been throwing out all the tricks. We in the grandstands have seen the sheen of spent ghost rock and eldritch twinkles zipping from car to car, indicating either magic use or an off-brand form of technology.

G: Both of which are of course illegal in racing.

C: Yes, but with so little means to prove either, those are rules that are very difficult to enforce. I do have to point out one team that’s looking very strong, one that hasn’t slung out any attacks of their own, is the dark horse team of Endicott and Rawlins.

G: Couldn’t agree more, Charlie. I spoke with Henry Endicott a few days ago – did you know that before this he was a simple driver for a private citizen down in Louisiana before moving up here?

C: Amazing. To have gone from such humble beginnings to the greatest spectacle in racing in such a short time. The man has dreams. Dreams that could fall to pieces on the track if things don’t go just right for him. Speaking of crashes, I myself had the pleasure of speaking with the mechanic, Nickie Rawlins…

G: Uhh, Charlie…

C: … and the young man comes from a much less humble, but much more nefarious background. Our more cosmopolitan readers may have heard of the infamous Black Hand gang, a criminal empire that – did something catch fire, Graham?

G: I was just looking over at the pagoda, Charlie, and there seems to be a disturbance there. We’re going to take a momentary break from our raceday coverage to see if we can, wait-

[A crash followed by a grinding scream are heard from a distance]

C: What in the world?!?

G: Listeners, part of the third floor of the pagoda has just, just IMPLODED. It’s caved it, and we’re hearing something screaming, possibly an engine, Charlie what do you make of it?

C: I-I’ve heard th-this before. It’s… oh my god, it’s-

G: It sounds worse that the night of Christmas dinner when I was twelve, folks. My old man’d eaten three helpings of the roast, and all through the night he was in the lavatory. When he used words, they were prayers for death.

C: …Yes. That.

Peach spiration
I have somehow won the grand prize at the pie competition at the Indiana state fair, and now am writing down the recipe, correcting the small flaws as I go. The original idea weren’t bad, mind you, but I bettered it for sure. This is going to be a pie people drive down to Nola for. I almost can’t wait to make it at the hotel, now.

I was muddled by the heat, I think, and the unfriendliness of my competitors, who seemed quite a back-stabbing lot, (though knowledgeable about pie, for sure); thank goodness I made sure to taste my fruit though, because I certainly created a better recipe to showcase those berries than I was planning on. Just goes to show what experience and inspiration can do, well blended together. it’s been a blessing, to be cooking in all of the different kitchens I’ve been in lately— I’ve picked up tricks and refinements I couldn’t have gotten, otherwise. I’d say I’m twice the cook I was last year, in fact. I guess adventure has been good for me, after all.

Certainly hasn’t been bad for my trusty German chef’s knife.

Possessed Tigers
They ain't all that



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