Snippet #2692192

Arthur would nod to them. "A pleasure to meet you two."
John would walk over to a booth at the end of the lobby, its inhabitant regarding him indifferently. If you took a sumo wrestler, fed him purple jelly until he exploded, then stitched his remains back together, along with some spare arms and eyes, you would only get so close as to describing the Receptionist. The creature seemed cramped in the small booth.
"Mornin', Receptionist!" called John.
The Receptionist, due to a lack of proper vocal cords, gave him a grumble.
"... Whatever time it is, anyway. I would like permission to take these ladies to-"
"Grroowwwwllll..."
"A ticket?! I'm the Governor of the Skelecoots, I would gladly let them in without-"
"GRRROOOWWWLLL...."
".... Fine."
John would reach into a pocket in his coat, producing a leather wallet in good condition, if slightly corroding. He would take out several coins, each inscribed, with closer inspection, with a skull on one side, and a pelvis on another. This was probably the undead's version of heads and tails.
"Here you go," muttered John. "10 Skulls."
The Receptionist would, with a smaller arm, take the coins and take them to some unknown area within the booth. The many eyes would look slightly to the left, it's body rippling from the movement of an unseen appendage, before two tickets, each labelled with the name, "SKELEVILLE", would be produced. John would take the tickets and lend them to the sisters. "Here you go. Sorry about the interference, newcomers have to buy a ticket to go anywhere these days."