Seclusionary Tactische

     Jens sat on the frozen ground, body limp, surveying a herd of lazy goats that were chewing what little cud they could scrounge up on the side of this godforsaken rock in the middle of the Carpathian peaks. The sky was a sullen grey and a vicious wind blew hard and fast.  A goat glanced at Jens as it walked close to him, but Jens didn't move a muscle to catch it, to feed upon it, to nourish his starving body.  He was trying to die, a feeble attempt to thwart this curse. 
     He had been on his way back to the cave where he had made a home for so long, before Glenn had come and took him for that whirlwind of a world tour with the band.  Jens had found a bit of enjoyment in the spectacle, and his role as a roadie afforded him sex and drugs whenever he liked, which turned out to be more seldom than not.  After the first few hundred thousand blowjobs it became boring, and after the first few thousand would-be-overdose-sized servings of pure grade heroin, drugs were just as boring.  Not even a bloodfeast (the Misfits song of that name started running thru his brain) was exciting to him any longer.
    Jens thought of Wolf Mozza and his lucky run in with that falling piano.  How he wished something or someone would come along and put him out of his misery.

   "Wish? Did someone say wish?" asked a voice somewhere above and behind him.  Jens was only slightly startled.  He had intended to return to his seclusion, but had been struck down by the worst depressive episode ever. Only a hundred meters to his hidden cave home, and he'd just dropped his pack, sat down and gave up.  He had slowed his breathing and removed heavy fur coat and other outer wear in the vain hope that he would freeze to death.  No such luck. 
He craned his neck behind him to see the approaching figure.  It looked like Merle Haggard.  This did not make sense, and he gawked again. It still looked like Merle.  Little did Merle know that Jens could tell that it was a disguise, that Merle was actually MR. PcP!
    "You wanna talk about it, hoss?" the demon said, and laughed maniacally, spittle flying and horror echoing through the surrounding hills.
     "How d-did you esc-c-cape?" managed Jens feebly through icy lips.