Lightning Sketch - That's Not What You Said

The oily salesman had his look at the old, decrepit face and laughed.
“This is not the work of my fathers, of my lineage. This is the work of carrion crows come to steal just the slightest flesh from the maddening ways of one so vile as he. But look, the work is shoddy, it’s amateurish. The carrion crows forgot to pick the soul from these bones when they picked the flesh. My work would have been artistic and left no trace of the soul or moment of life left. These crows though. Amateurs.”

Lies. Lies begin and end with the rubbish of the fallen and ill soiled. Lies begin with the very need to be lied to and the very lack of will it takes to shine light on the shadow of a lie. But where this light shines, there shines the ignominy of confrontation, the graceless back-peddling of the accused and rejected. A lie is known when a lie is heard, and here Bertrand Russell knew a lie too and so was content to let it lay. But, the Carnival Master needed to be heard and believed, as all liars need.

“Look boy, look at these bones! My work is better than this. You are a fool of a boy. Be gone with you, trash. I have real customers coming with real coin and real taste. I did your job. I told you I would leave some remnants of the old soul’s quickening on the bones if something went wrong..”

“That’s not what you said. Challenge me not Carnival Master. The very fabric of your transient soul lay as finely untwining threads in my fingers. I see what you wish to hide and I will have what you promised, with or without your assistance or knowledge.”

Context

This segment comes from an old story that I started about 7 years ago, in Boston. There may be more of this, or not. I haven't decided.