West of Jersey

So I haven't managed to get that book back from Fatts III yet but I figured why let that get me down? It is the 4^th of July, after all. So instead of feeling down on my luck I decided to view some quality fireworks in a near-by town. I was happy to sit and relax. Blanket on the ground, tea in hand I was ready for the show and it started. I was quite pleased, that is until THEY showed up. And just like that, the sky was blocked by a huge tour bus parked right smack in the center. And before I could even say “Harper Lee, the author of To Kill a Mockingbird was really a woman but wrote under a title that everyone thought to be a man because of the social mindset towards women in her day and age” The park was filled with tourists, not just normal tourists, for you see, the bus was THE TOURBUS OF THE RIVER STYX. Frigging A, why did they have to park in the sky? I could hear the booms and the applause of people sitting closer than I. What if a guy went up with a rocket? I mean I would want to see something like that, so I figured I had better get that bus out of the way. I had to shuffle past a few people being ripped in half and then reassembled and a few people whose heads continually fell off but eventually I made it to the door of the bus. I pounded on it for a few moments before they slid open and a frazzled looking demon turned to me. “It's my first day on the job chap, sorry about this, I've found myself in a spot of misdirection rather.” I shook my head, “Why are you pretending to have a British accent?” He shrugged his shoulders and admitted to me. “This is a tour of homes OF THE DAMNED and I guess I wanted to make it sound fancy.” I looked at him for a bit, “Well everyone can tell you are faking. Besides, this isn't Hades, why on earth are you guys here?” The driver appeared rather bummed out by this point. “Well. I took a wrong turn, I don't suppose you would know how to make it back to hell?” I, never having been to hell had no idea but I figured I'd take a good guess. I gave him the best directions I could and he smiled. With a loud shout that only a being of the underworld could muster, all of the undead tourists were back on board. “Remember, I said, 78 will take you all the way to New Jersey, you think you can make it?” He nodded, “Certainly chap, thanks for the directions rather.” He winked at me and closed the doors. With a loud crack the bus was off again and my view of the night sky was unhindered, just in time for the finale...