Giving the Psychic Finger

Treeder clears his throat, still recovering from the napkin incident. He quickly knocks back two more shots and motions to the barkeep to set him up again. With his proverbial whistle now wet, Treeder turns to Ericka “What did it say?”
“What did what say?” she said using her usual parsimoniously coy tone of voice.
“The napkin, Ericka, what did it say?”
“Oh right, now I get it. What did Turin write on the napkin? Well as I recall, it said to take the digit to the ranch and give it the usual monkey business.”
“What! That would be a fine plan if I had the digit. The problem is that I’m fairly certain that Rebus ate it.
“No, no, he just bit it off, but he didn’t swallow it.” How rude is that? she thought.

Treeder was more than slightly drunk by this point and was quickly getting annoyed with what he perceived as Ericka’s double talk.
“Clone it, Jack! Clone it! Clone it! Turin’s absolutely right, It’s the only way out of your sordid little mess with Bob.” Ericka motions to the bartender.
“Another round?” he asks.
“No, we ah … lost a finger or rather ah… we lost a friend’s finger. Yeah that’s it.. We lost a friends finger and I believe that it may be in your lost and found box.”
The Barkeep begins scratching his head, “Now that's a new one. How odd. I think I would have remembered something like that. It’s really not the usual type of thing we find around here. You know the usual lost stuff … like an umbrella, a fist full of lighters, even an occasional shoe. Oh don’t ask about that one. It’s a long story.”

“Can we please just check the box?”
“Oh sure, no problem! I'll get Numlock to fetch it.”
The barkeep looks down to the far end of the bar and yells
“Hey, Numlock, get over here and bring out the L&F box.”
Some grunting and scurrying can be heard behind and below the bar. Within a few short moments two thick and hairy hands with strangely stubby fingers hoist a dirty red box with the bold white letters “L&F” on every side up and onto the bar directly in front of Ms. Marzel.

After prying the lid off, Ericka and Jack bump heads both trying to peer into the contents of the box first. And there it was, the psychic finger of Robert Skyfox, wedged between a shiny set of car keys held together by a pyramid with an eye keychain.
Ericka grabs the finger, wraps it in a cocktail napkin and opens her purse.
“Close our tab, Jack.” While Jack takes care of the tab she closes the box, and winks at the barkeep. “Thanks a million and also thank you, Numlock.”
“Gugg” is heard from behind and below the bar.
The Barkeep winks back and says. “Pleasure as always Ms. Marzel, never a dull moment here @11”
Jack signs the receipt and he and Ms. Marzel head for the parking lot.

While walking Jack asks, “Hey Ericka, What’s with that Numlock character?”
“Oh, you don’t know?” she says. “He's from a place where even time travelers don’t go”
“Where’s that?” He asks
“Darling, Numlock is from the prehistoric future.”
This conversation ends abruptly as Treeder looks up and much to his astonishment he watches Ericka insert a key into the stylish black illuminati.