Cleatus Abernathy's Questionnaire

I live in Reno. Terrible town honestly but it's the only place so bad that they don't notice the special supernatural enforcement division despite all the casualties and issues we have. 

In Reno I live in a decent enough place. Two bedrooms, a bath, enough space for a moonshine still and no complaints from the neighbors when I give them a bottle or two after the brewings done. Though, lately people have been getting worse and worse at standing upright after drinking a jug of ole Cleatus Abernathy's moonshine. 

Hah. Not that I'm complaining, there was only so much talking I could do with a drunk man when half my job was putting people in the drunk tank. So at the end of the day it's not all bad, and who knows what I'd do with myself if I ever became rich. 

Where do I get my money?

Where I've always gotten it. I'm a born and bred moonshine runner, but Pa was the Sherriff and there's only so much that can be done with prohibition been done and gone for goin on about 80 years or so. 

Means there's no money in running booze anymore when you can get it from the cornerstore, and corn liquor doesn't get anyone drunker than potato liquor available for 5 bucks a handle down at ABC.

So I went into law manning, from there got dragged into the SCP Foundation. Figured it was right someone was equipped to handle all the problems that come from out the dark especially once I knew they were for real and now I work with their alternate dimension branch in Reno. Cover is as a beat cop of course, only so many days that demons burst up on out of Hell, but it's an honest living. 

I want to establish a sort of shield for the people here in Maelstrom. The sons exist sure, but they're all not so closeted racists moreso than an actual functional shield out here to help their fellow man. All a bunch of wannabe alpha male bullshit, and what I can tell you about that is no real man ever needed a title to know he was one. 

Current progress towards that is doing well on account of the living trust Mr.Wesley set up with his billions to fund the foundation. Man was richer than he was sensible as far as I heard it, but I thank him for his donations all the same. 

I'm currently souping up big bessie to be the new containment model, and hopefully once we have a fleet of those we'll be well and good on our way to containing those who ain't got any sense but all the power to make a mess. 

As for how close to death and whether I'd kill for it? Boy I've already nearly died a dozen times and killed a dozen more for it. I reckon at this point the only thing that will stop me is actually dyin'.

Most defining event of my life is easy. Out there at the brewery I damn near bit it. I deserved it too at the time on account of being awife beating piece of shit who ran in half cocked. 

Partner bit it for me though, pushed me out of the way of some kind of beer golem that some fat ass servants of gluttony had resurrected and then she came in and saved me just when I was certain I was gonna die and go to hell where I belonged.

Autumn was her name. She saved me and set me on the right track. Set me up with the foundation folks so I could die in the dark so the world could live in the light. Even got me therapy so I could address all those problems that made me such a piece of shit. 

I wonder every day if I'm doing her proud as I am now.

First is Autumn. Girl who saved my life. I keep in touch as much as I can, but she's gone quiet lately. I send letters, but she still isn't responding and I'm beginning to get real worried about her. 

Next is my ex-wife. Deborah. She isn't pleased with me and she has every right not to be I suppose. That's the wages of my sin. She collects half my paycheck as a support arrangement while she goes to college. We came to that arrangement instead of her gettin' half my shit in the divorce. One last gesture of support to set her on her way I suppose.

Last is my brother Jimothy. He ain't exactly all right in the head and I keep havin to fight him to not cook meth in the still but he watches it while I'm gone and keeps it from exploding in exchange for free rent and food. I'd make him pay for either but last thing I promised mama is that I'd take care of him and Cleatus ain't no welcher.

My childhood? It was poor. Like every white piece of shit past the mason dixon line though I had an idea that I was special in my head growing up. Figured the world owed me something if it was going to throw me kicking and screaming into it with a piece of shit abuser for a dad and a mom who cared more about the scratchers than she did ensuring there was anything on the table at night. 

Guess that was why they were always fighting. Daddy worked, Momma spent, but Momma at least gave a shit when things got down to brass tacks and we got real hungry enough that we didn't stop at bothering her just once. 

As for school.. I was physically fit enough and always good on my feet so they made me a running back. Did well enough at that which seemed to make pa a little less pissed anytime I'd tell him I won a game. Part of me thinks he was trying to live through me. Meant I fit right in at school though and connected me with the police chief's kid.

Made academy life real easy, but... that's going a bit further than the question asked so I'll leave it there. 

Love? Of course I have. Any man with anything flowing in his veins knows the heat of passion flowin' through them. I've felt lust, love, like, everything between. 

And I know I ain't deserved half of it that I've got from others in my life. Especially my wife Deborah. Damn I loved that woman, but.. I burned that bridge. By drinking myself into a stupor despite knowing how awful it made me and keeping going even when I knew it hurt her. 

So yeah, I've loved, and it ain't turn out well neither. Makes me wonder if I'm made to be in love at all or if all I'll ever do to people who gets close is gut em' for the crime of having give a shit about a bastard like me.