“God I hate this job. Its fucking cold, I’m wet, the damn ground is frozen, and we hardly make a penny.”

“Ahh what you complaining fer the priest pays us don’t he.”

“Ha pay is that what you call it. I can hardly buy a scrap to eat. Speakin of what gimme a bite a your apple.”

“No, get your own. I filched this me self .’ Sides its rotten anyways. But at least the priest gives us a place to sleep at night.”

“Ya the old Sellner crypt. Don’t get me started on that fat lazy priest.”

“You shouldn’t talk of the father like that.”

“He’s in his nice little warm house enjoying a nice plump juicy bird. While were out freezing our knickers off  dig’n some ditch for scum that died in the gutter.”

“She was a lady and show some respect for the dead.”

“She weren’t nut tin but no street walker. And that priest is so self righteous he won’t even look at her or us. So he has us bury it in the back off the stone yard –at night- - again- with no marker to give her.”

“Well there are perks to this job.”

“Hmmm perks, like what?”

“We get to flitch the corpse for anything of worth.”

“You mean anything that’s –left- that’s worth grave robben for after it gets through that church , and sides she’s just another murdered whore . It’s not like she had anything to flitch anyway. Hell she went and got murdered so it’s not like she even got paid for her last run.”

“True at least the stars are nice to night.”

“Ya, yer right they are. Maybe your right there just might be a perk to this job.”  

“Shootin’ star”

“Come on this is good enough for the likes of her. Let’s just push it in and get the job over with. The fog’s getting thicker”

“I still say you should pay the dead some respect.”

“Pay her! I aint got  no money. ‘Sides whenever I did pay her she wasn’t even that good.”