Mission: Hardcore Criminal [Private]

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

• Hardcore Criminal •

The steel receptacle toppled to the ground with a loud, clanging sound that echoed throughout the alley. The lid of the trash can had slipped off when it fell over, allowing the contents within to flow out like a landslide of plastic. A bare hand reached for a pointed rock nearby and gripped it tightly, before using it to slice into one of the bags. The unpleasant stench emanating from the garbage intensified when a gash was cut into the bag, and would continue to increase as a pair of hands widened the opening to decrease the obstruction. A stream of putrid foodstuffs flopped out of the bag. Soggy, reeking vegetables; chunks and strips of meat covered in a green, slimy substance; small animal bones holding a scant amount of meat; hardened, yellowing rice; rotting, blackening fruits. These were but a few of the disposed waste that spilled out of the trash bag, along with less edible items like empty bottles, cracked or broken cups and utensils, or stained napkins. It was everything one would expect to find in a waste container. The stench emanating from the spilled waste was malodorous enough to induce watering in the eyes for most people. However, the person who had cut into the plastic bag was not tearing up one bit. Widely-opened eyes were staring unblinkingly at his handiwork; the slate gray irises seemed devoid of any light or signs of life, looking as soulless and empty as the rock they so resembled in color.

The kneeling figure was a boy, no older than ten years, rummaging through the trash unenthusiastically - habitually. He was small for someone his age, thinner and shorter than what was considered “average”. A ragged, worn-out cloak covered the boy’s pale, emaciated body, but barely long enough to reach past his knees. Upon his head sat a hat of a matching color, in the same tattered state as the cloak. Dirt, grime, and other forms of filth clung to the two articles of clothing that he wore. What was visible of the boy’s skin was covered in the same filth. Brown, green, yellow: it was impossible to discern what each stain compromised. Messy blonde hair fell all over his face, in as dire a need of a wash as the rest of his body. Dark circles beneath the glazed, gray eyes added to the lifeless look of his face.

Silently, without any show of disgust or anguish, the little boy picked through the pile of garbage before him, searching in a manner that was unnervingly practiced. Bony fingers, speckled with dirt, dug into the decaying, odorous mush without any regard for the unhygienic nature of task. A few minutes later, the excavation yielded a result: a small, veiny hand closed around a half-eaten, blackening banana and rescued it from the landslide of mold. Eyes still refusing to blink or show a glimmer of sentience, the youngster set the banana aside and resumed his searching.

“What the hell’re you doing? Get outta here!”

The irked man’s yell was enough to force the child to scamper away from the mess he had created, with his find in hand. The angered man did not follow, too busy grumbling over the spilled garbage to give chase. A good thing, too, for the man’s larger size would have allowed him to easily catch up with the scurrying child. The fleeing vagrant did not run for too long, though. After several turns, his bare feet brought him to a stop deeper into the alleyway. Squatting, the child looked down at the half-eaten fruit in his hand. Well, maybe “half-eaten” was not the best word; more like “three-quarters-eaten”. Regardless of how much remained, he bit into the small fruit steadily and unhurriedly, eyes still unmoving as he chewed. He must have been lost in thought to not care about his surroundings. Indeed, the boy was so inattentive that he did not even move in response to the nearby patter of footsteps and frustrated mumbling. The blonde child finished his meal, and uncaringly tossed the peel aside. The banana peel sailed through the air and landed the ground a few feet away; and no sooner had it done so, when a voice suddenly echoed through the alley.

“Hey! Pick that up, dammit!” the speaker snapped to the boy. Like a startled animal, the crouching child spun around to fix his wide eyes on the reproachful stranger. It was a middle-aged woman with tanned skin, and a voluminous head of curly, aquamarine hair that reached to her shoulders. A large, straw purse hung from her right shoulder; it was quite amazing that such a cumbersome item was being carried so easily. The lady’s apparel, while plain in design, was rather revealing at the same time; or more specifically, she had chosen to wear her purple-gray kimono in such a manner as to expose more skin than necessary. Amber eyes were narrowed angrily as the woman looked down at the comparatively miniscule child, pointing a finger at the banana peel lying at her feet.

The boy shifted his focus from the woman and to the object in question. When he looked back at the blue-haired woman, the latter then pointed from the peel to a trash can directly behind the child, and then back at the peel. After a few seconds of silent staring, the boy picked up the litter, and dropped it into the steel container as directed. The trivial task completed, the blonde child turned around to wordlessly watch the woman, as if expecting further developments in the encounter. The woman looked satisfied by the boy’s show of obedience; or maybe she was glad that she had stopped a litterer in action. The amber eyes sized the vagrant thoughtfully, and it was a few seconds before the female crossed her arms across her chest and addressed the child.

“Say, kid. Would you be willing to do me a little favor? All you’ve got to do is go through town doing things like knocking down trash cans, or picking out garbage and throwing it all over the place. Basically, make a mess of the streets. I’ll even give you a reward or… something.” She waited for the blonde to give a response, but the boy did nothing other than continue to stand silently. His unresponsiveness caused the blue-haired individual to frown in frustration. She bent her upper torso forward slightly, forehead wrinkled while looking more intensely at the smaller person. She snapped the fingers on a manicured hand impatiently, aiming to acquire the boy’s attention.

“Hellooo! Can you understand me? Do you know what I’m asking you to do?” She spoke slowly and loudly, as if she thought the youngster was deaf or retarded, or perhaps both. This notion seemed justified when the boy did not react visibly to the degrading style of speech. Or it would have been, if he did not choose that moment to reply with a simple nod of his head. Grinning and assuming that the nod also meant that the request had been accepted, the unnamed woman straightened up and continued speaking.

“As I was saying: dirty up this place as much as you can. Get people talking; gross them out. Whatever. Just make a big enough mess that people notice it. You’ve got till high noon to make this place as filthy as you can.” She abruptly stopped talking once again, but it was not to await a reply from the boy. Instead, she seemed to be considering something, and her next words made it apparent what thoughts had interrupted her speech. “Noon is five hours from - never mind. You probably can’t count or tell time…” She scratched her head wonderingly. “Erm… Noon is when the Sun is so high up in the sky that you’re shadow pretty much disappears… But, you know, it’s not like when the Sun goes down at night, and it’s dark. The Sun’s still up… it’s just that...” Another awkward head scratch interjected the rambling. “Tell you what, kid. You just go do like I asked, and I’ll come find you when it’s time. Okay?”

Without waiting for the boy to actually affirm whether it was “okay”, the woman turned on her sandal-covered heels and marched away; her hurried pace might have been because she was eager to get away from the embarrassing situation she had created. Back at the site of said embarrassing situation, it was a full minute before the boy finally moved from his spot. In the same manner as the woman, he turned on his dirty, bare heels and scurried off to complete his assigned task, with the zombie look never faltering.

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Not long after the meeting between the woman and boy, the noise of falling bins progressively began to sound throughout the town at various intervals. Sometimes, the ringing only lasted briefly, while at other times, it would continue on for several seconds: an indication of how many cans were toppling over at the same time. The townsfolk were confused each time they heard the noises, but their attention would only be held for a few seconds before they returned to their prior tasks. However, slowly but steadily, a change was being noticed by the inhabitants. Along with the tipped bins, waste such as crumpled paper, emptied bottles, and even discarded food was being seen all over the streets. Or rather, more of this refuse was being seen than usual. A few people were scratching their heads in confusion; others did not think the matter worthy of their focus or scrutiny. The scattered garbage was not exactly hindering their daily activities all that much, so why would they be particularly bothered? In fact, many of the townspeople were going about their business as if nothing different was happening; and really, they were perfectly justified in their indifference.

“Yes, sir! You won’t find any mackerels as scrumptious as these for mi-!”

The mustached merchant’s bargaining was cut short as he and his customer both averted their attention from the stand of fish, and to the source of the clanging chorus of reverberating metal. Less than ten feet away from the fish vendor, four trash cans had been tipped over. Their contents were spilling all over the side of the street: fish guts, bones, and other useless portions packed in disposal bags were spread across the dirt. Standing right by the fallen bins was the culprit. This ragged boy bent down and grabbed one of the bags of guts; without warning, he chucked the plastic bag at the nearby fish stand. The bag landed right on top of the pile of the aforementioned mackerels, and the contents spilled out from the bag and onto the batch. A furious exclamation burst from the merchant’s mouth, a second before the customer slyly said something along the lines of “those mackerels don’t look so scrumptious anymore”. The comment only deepened the color rising in the merchant’s face. He whipped around to go stomping towards the brat that had ruined a day of honest work, but the offender had already vanished from sight. The mess he had created, however, was still present.

“That little rat! When I find him… Argh!”

Deeper in the town, a couple walking passed an alley were suddenly bumped into by the dirty child as he came running out onto the street. The youngster fell back onto the street, and the teenage boy and girl grumbled to each other rather than offer him a hand. While the black-haired girl complained about the large, dirt stain on her skirt (the result of the blonde colliding with her), her brunette boyfriend waved his hand dismissingly at the vagrant, telling him to “get lost”. The child glanced at the two older folk with his soulless expression, prior to getting to his feet and scampering away from them. The male teen huffed contemptuously, and then turned to his mate to ease her annoyed mind. His words of assurance lightened her mood, and they began to resume their pleasant walk through town. Or rather, they were about to resume their stroll, when something very brown and very sticky splattered into the back of the male’s head. The brunette’s hair was now a deeper shade of brown, the viscous substance dripping down his head revealed to be mud. Much like the merchant from a few minutes ago, anger fueled the boy as he spun around to search for his attacker. He caught sight of the guilty child running away from a puddle of muddy water, the filth on his hands evident even from the teen’s angle. With his pride having been damaged in front of his girl, and by a filthy midget to boot, the boy was left with no desire other than to bolt after the fleeing figure - all while screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs.

While the teenager’s longer legs gave him a lengthier stride than the youngster, the child’s head start and smaller size meant that he was able to maintain a steady distance from his pursuer. The crowd on the streets, while not exceptionally dense, was nonetheless thick enough to make it harder for the taller boy to catch up to his quarry. The younger boy used his stature to his advantage, weaving around the legs of passersby with a decent display of nimbleness. Even while fleeing from his chaser, the boy did not waste the opportunity to bump into any nearby trash bins. He even went so far as to have the teen accidently run into a can or two, thereby worsening the mess. Soon enough, a trail of garbage was marking the chase’s path, and the teenager was probably following the sounds of falling cans rather than trying to actually locate the tiny figure among the sea of taller people.

But, it would probably have been wiser for the teenager to keep his eyes on the youngster. As it was, the humiliated teen missed the little boy ducking into an alleyway to hide between two cardboard boxes, and continued past it in his fury-filled search. It was after a few minutes of patient waiting had gone by when the secluded boy emerged from his hiding place. Scratching his nose with a muddy hand and showing no care for the smudge that was left afterwards, he moved deeper into the gap between the two buildings. Once he had located another waste container, he pushed it to the ground. The bag inside was strenuously pulled out by the thin child, and then tugged along the alleyway.

For the next few hours, similar happenings took place all over the settlement. Trash was dropped, garbage cans were being tipped over, and mud and other filth was hurled at windows and people. It did not take long before the whole town managed to deduce who was responsible for the steadily decreasing hygiene of the town. Naturally, they were not pleased by the beggar’s actions. The fact that the child was already regarded as a nuisance by the townsfolk before the start of his “war against cleanliness” made the inhabitants even more aggravated. So much so, that they started making an actual effort to prevent the boy from continuing his annoying actions. Anyone who spotted the child in the middle of his littering acts either shouted rudely at him to stop, or resorted to physical means. They would try to chase him away like he was some kind of stray animal, or throw something at him to prevent him from finishing his task. However, the homeless child was doing surprisingly well in staying out of sight. The watchful citizens only spotted him after he made the mess in their vicinity; and even then, they always lost him when they gave chase or such. Much to everyone’s surprise, the child was very good at vanishing from sight. Probably because he was so small, and because he had been on the streets long enough to know all the good hiding spots. After all, the beggar had been required to hide plenty of times before because of his incriminating acts, which were mostly in the form of stealing from the citizens. In any case, the entire town’s opinion of the boy was at an all-time low. The frustrated grumbling only intensified as time passed.

“That damned brat! Have you seen what he’s been up to lately? It’s disgusting.”

“First he steals our food, and now he’s defiling our home? What the hell’s his problem?”

“Creepy little piece of shit… He’s got to be messed up in the head or something. Why else would he be doing something so stupid?”

“Don’t you think we should start cleaning up the town, though? It looks horrible. Smells even worse.”

“Tsk! Why should we clean up this mess? Have that runt do it.”

“Well, good luck trying to distinguish him from the rest of the garbage.”

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

“There he is! Go get’em, boy! Go!”

A blonde head whipped round to focus dead gray eyes on the flabby figure of a balding man with a bushy, ginger beard. This was the same man that had caught the beggar in the back of his shop, fishing through his garbage. In his hand, the pug-faced man held a leash, to which was bound a similarly fat and ugly pug. Upon catching sight of the child, the man had pointed a thick finger at him accusingly, while ordering his dog to attack the little litterer. When the command had been given, the boy had scrambled to his bare feet and hurried off, and not a second before the slobbering pug went chasing after him. Little feet pattered over gravel and dirt as the boy fled from the vicious dog. The four-legged animal was going after him with such determination that it was a wonder if it had a personal grievance with the human. But no: this was the first time either flea-ridden creature had met each other. The obedient (and bloodthirsty) pug was merely following its owner’s orders: to hunt down and apprehend the rascal that had been polluting their home. Now, whether or not that owner had told his pet to pursue as if it sought blood, or if it was just part of the dog’s mindset, was unclear. Whatever the answer may be, that brown-white sack of fur and fat looked ready to eat the boy.

The pug was fast - faster than the boy. However, the boy was smarter and nimbler. He managed to keep his distance from the dog by veering around corners, vendors, trash bins, and other obstacles; he climbed up pipes or gates, hindrances that proved a challenge at times for the animal to pass. But, the pug had to be given credit for its persistence. More so than the teenage boy from earlier, the canine would not let up in the chase, always managing to catch up with its prey when he got too far. It even got closer to the child than the mud-splattered teen: the pug actually bit into the hem of the blonde’s cloak at one point, and that would have been the end of the chase. That is, if the worn and ragged material had not ripped apart from the force of the dog and the boy pulling at it in opposing directions. As it was, the blonde had managed to escape the pug’s grasp, and with a nifty new hole in his cloak for him to put his arm through.

Another difference between this chase and the other was that there was less damage being done to the town. In other words, the child was not able to knock over as many trash cans as he had while the teen was chasing him. Running away was too much of a priority against this faster dog to allow him enough time or focus to spill more garbage. However, the child had come up with a way to use the dog to further dirty the town, while also losing it from his tail.

Several minutes into the chase, he did not slow his pace as he reached his destination: a pen. His tiny, emaciated form squeezed through one of the gaps in the wooden fence. Bare feet pounded over a mixture of mud, animal droppings, and other forms of filth. Without any signs of worry or uncertainty, the midget of a child squeezed in between two large pigs; he vanished out of sight just as the pug pushed its way into the enclosure, using the same method that the boy had. While the blonde navigated through the pen of pigs unnoticed by the animals, the dog was not so stealthy. The moment it entered the pen, the pug tripped and fell into a puddle of mud. When it stood back up, it was clearly angered, and its increased hostility was sensed by the pigs. Thus began the panicking: the pug was barking angrily at the larger, outnumbering animals; the pigs were squealing in fear at the sight of the aggressive dog, or in the case of the equally aggressive males, attempting to intimidate the pug. Needless to say, the atmosphere was not serene in the pig pen.

Chaos then ensued when the canine lunged at a nearby swine and bit into it. The squealing, barking, and general air of pandemonium was not that bad at first, since the animals were confined and could be controlled. But, mysteriously enough, the pen’s door had been somehow opened not long after panic overcame the animals inside. Under the influence of fear and anger, the pigs rushed out of the pen and into the town. If there was chaos before, it was the apocalypse now. More than twenty pigs (and one pug) were now running all over the town, trailing mud and muck (and who knew what else) wherever they went. The townspeople stood gaping at the sight of the stampeding swine. Because of their upset demeanor, the filthy animals began to wreck the town further, causing a bigger mess than anyone could have foreseen. Soon enough, the townsfolk were scrambling after the pigs, trying to stop them from destroying their town. Understandably, they were too preoccupied with the pig hunt to focus on stopping some brat dirtying the place. The pigs were doing a better job anyway.

“Fuck! Where the hell did all these pigs come from, anyway?”

“Tsk! We have enough problems to deal with today!”

“I’ll bet that fucking brat did this as well! When I find him, I’m gonna bury him under all this garbage!”

All over the settlement, the cries of the pigs and humans disrupted the peaceful atmosphere. Not only were the streets and buildings looking filthy, but the inhabitants’ moods had turned just as ugly and unpleasant; clearly, they did not appreciate the fact that all these problems were occurring all at once. Their temperaments were souring further as they rightfully began to blame all these misfortunes on one of the town’s most frequent source of annoyances. If they were to learn that said source of annoyance was not done with his magic just yet, there was no telling what their rage would convince them to do.

Sitting on the roof of a single-story building, the little blonde watched the carnage transpiring below him. No regret, satisfaction, or pride could be seen on his face; just a look as vacant as the pen of pigs he had emptied. Covered in the same amount of muck and mud as the rampaging swine were, the boy was pretty much dirtying anything he touched at this point. This did not go unnoticed by him, for after returning to the ground, he spent the next several minutes simply walking around the town (cautiously, of course), and staining everything he contacted with the filth coating him. If he kept up this increasing degree of uncleanliness, he would end up being a carrier of some kind of disease. Or plague. Assuming whatever bacteria were cultivating on and within his body did not kill him first.

Fortunately, the boy got himself a nice little wash when some clouds rolled over the town, and doused it in a short but heavy shower of rain. This was good for the boy, since he was cleaned up some. The citizens, however, were aggravated further, as the rain only made the mess worse by making everything wet, soggy, and sticky.

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Despite their initial reluctance, the townsfolk eventually began to clean up the mess. Several factors contributed to their ultimate submission. The magnitude of the mess had reached such a state that they had no choice but to begin picking up all the trash; the filth and accompanying stench was practically unbearable at that point. Secondly, the guilty party was nowhere to be seen by this time, and after rounding up the freed pigs, the hunters had no option other than to begin the clean-up.

The most significantly contributing factor was a certain woman’s “preaching”. The environmentalist who had instigated this whole affair had gone around persuading the angered people to start cleaning up their town. Her words had been carefully chosen to incite emotions that could be easily manipulated by the cunning woman. The sermons and speeches were persuasive and inspiring. She took advantage of the shared frustration of the inhabitants to rally them together against the “offense of littering”. The ease with which she succeeded was staggering, even to her. While just a few days ago, she was being scoffed at and ignored, now, she was the leader of a group of passionate and enthused followers. Indeed, her plan had worked out even better than she had imagined. The dozens of people who had originally cared little for their environment or how their actions impacted it were now ambitiously hurrying around their hometown in an effort to remove all the garbage. If asked, the woman would have said that the entire outcome brought tears to her eyes - and it honestly did.

A setting Sun in the backdrop silhouetted the blue-haired woman as she happily sauntered down the street, beaming as brightly as the celestial body behind her. She was, indubitably, pleased with herself. And why not? She had had a hand in making the place dirtier than it had ever been, and then, she had helped to make it the cleanest it had been in years. The whole place was trash-free, with everything clean and orderly. It was picturesque - heartwarming, even. There was almost a skip in the lady’s gait as she walked; nothing seemed likely to put a damper on her cheery mood at the moment. Or so one might think, if they did not see the way the woman started when she turned a corner. A small figure had stepped out from the shadows to grab hold of her kimono and tug at it from behind. The startled woman turned and recognized the little one to be boy she had convinced to help her.

“Oh, it’s you,” she remarked, relaxing her posture. She pulled her kimono out of the youngster’s grasp, and blatantly dusted the spot he had touched with her hand, with no regard for what it might imply. Once she was done, she looked down at him once more. “What do you want?”

The child with the unsettling, unblinking stare held out a hand to her, opened palm facing upwards. No words accompanied this action, but the gesture was enough to clearly convey his intentions. The child was asking for his reward, and he certainly did deserve one. He had done an exceptional job in dirtying the town, more than had been requested. The plan had been for him to stop his littering by noon, and despite the environmentalist not coming to relieve him of the task at the appointed time, the child had stopped at the designated hour anyway. Contrary to the woman’s initial assumption, he probably did know what “noon” was, or perhaps was able to tell time. Whatever the truth, the beggar had ceased his contaminating at noon. The only reason he had not gotten his reward yet was because the woman had been too immersed in the clean-up for the child to approach her and request it. After all, the townsfolk were still angered at the blonde’s actions. This prevailing animosity explained why the woman with the blue hair looked around to make sure that no one was nearby: it would not do for her to be seen interacting with the person responsible for the recent adversity that the town had undergone.

Unsurprisingly, the environmentalist was able to understand the wordless request. Looking down at the outstretched hand that was barely larger than a tennis ball, it was a few seconds before she responded to the gesture. Sighing and reaching into her bag, the frowning lady rummaged through it momentarily, before she seemed to find what she had been searching for. Her hand emerged from the bag, and dropped what was unmistakably a piece of candy into the child’s hand.

“There you go, kid. Good job.” The woman was about to turn around and leave, when the child grabbed her clothes once more and tugged at them. When the woman returned her focus to him, the hand was held out once more, with the candy untouched. “What? You want more? Tsk. Fine.” She dropped a few more of the sweets into the petite hand, and made to depart once more; but the same response from the beggar prevented her exit. Annoyance increasing, the woman grinded her teeth as she faced the child, who continued to stare with the same vacant expression. The sweets dropped to the ground as the hand was tilted and then held out once more expectantly.

“Ryo… Ryo… Ryo… Ryo…”

The slow, continuous mantra issued from the child’s mouth, the words carried by a voice that was prepubescent and squeaky. The chant went on steadily and unfaltering in rhythm; it was almost machinelike in how it simply droned on and on without emotion. Not only did the unintelligent manner in which the words were said seem to unnerve the woman, but she seemed genuinely surprised that the child could speak. Most likely, she had assumed that he was mute. That being said, these emotions were only visible on her face for a second, before the much more intense expression of rage overtook her features. A tanned hand whipped forward and violently slapped the boy’s face. The blonde fell to the ground on his front, and took a moment to push himself into a squatting stance. A conspicuous mark had been left on his right cheek where the strike had landed, but the blank expression still refused to falter even slightly. Inanimate, gray eyes fixed on the livid woman; her reaction seemed a little over-the-top, to say the least.

“Ryo?! Are you kidding me?! Why should I pay you? If a beggar like you was supposed to have money, he’d have it already!” It was almost ridiculous how furiously the woman was acting right now. Her hands had balled into fists, which shook as intensely as the rest of her body. Nothing apart from extreme fury occupied her demeanor. “Just look at yourself. You’re filthy; disgusting. You’re like trash. No. You’re worse than trash. You’re human trash. It’s people like you who can never contribute to anything. You’re not beneficial in any way. Just a waste of space.”

Her harsh words were delivered in an equally harsh manner; the woman was practically spitting saliva with each uttered syllable. She stomped over to the boy, towering over him intimidatingly, with eyes that were ablaze with passionate loathing. The ire was not directed specifically at the blonde crouched at her feet. It was clearly an abhorrence that was extended to all penurious people. She was obsessed with safeguarding the environment, and to someone like her, the penniless were probably contaminating the Earth with their poor hygiene and inability to “contribute to anything”. Bad fortune had merely resulted in the homeless youngster encountering this woman. Taking into account this woman’s reaction, it was clear that she had never intended to reward the boy monetarily for his assistance.

Following the environmentalist’s outburst, there was nothing but silence on the boy’s end. Fiery amber and icy gray remained fixed upon each other for several seconds. Then, the child raised his hand in the same gesture as before, and resumed his chant.

“Ryo… Ryo… Ryo…”

Another blow whipped across the boy’s face, this time from a sandaled foot. It did not stop there, however. No sooner was the beggar lying on the ground when the wooden footwear began to slam down vehemently on his infantile body. The enraged woman continued to stomp unhesitatingly. The seconds ticked by, and the woman did not stomp. Neither did the blonde emit any sound or struggle against the beating. The last vestiges of the Sun had disappeared from the horizon when the lady finally stopped her kicking. Huffing irritably, she repositioned her bag more securely on her arm, and marched away from the lying child. Following the woman’s disappearance around a corner, the child pushed himself up into a sitting position. Though his face and clothes were bloodied and covered in dirt, the absence of an intelligent air still persisted. For a full minute, he just stared blankly ahead with his head cocked to one side. Soon after, he scooped up the candy he had dropped, before rising to his feet and scampering into the shadows of the nearest alley.

~ Mission Complete ~