Episode 1 (04/15/2005)
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Alone in the darkness, the Varmit waited. Silent. Pondering. Half-mad for even thinking about being here on his first night "creeping". He had told himself so many times, "start small". A mugging, a spray-can artist. Someone who didn't return their video on time last week. But here he was... |
| ...outside Sal "The Comb-over" Rezzini's apartment building, using his keen Varmit hearing to eavesdrop on what must be the biggest stick figure migration in the history of Blind Alley. Four goons inside, all sticks and all packing more than enough heat to turn a would-be vigilante into so much roadkill. And then there was Sal himself. God, what the hell was he thinking being here? |  |
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"Lou! Get away from that fucking window!" Sal's voice was like a razorwire thong on a six stroke whore, but Lou "The Trench" Grosser barely heard him. Instead, his focus was held on an alley across the street, where one of the shadows looked a little too thick for a second. Lou was nervous. |
| His mind kept telling him not to worry. Soon, the sticks were going to rule Blind Alley, and the rest of the Badly Drawn would be nothing more than so much spilled ink and busted lead. But every bit of his intuition was telling him that all of their plans were about to go to shit. |  |
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"I told you to get away from that fucking window, Lou! You need an eraser upside the head or what!?!" Sal was a "thickie", what the sticks called someone with a little more meat on their bones than an average stick, but not enough to make them a threat. Sal had ink in eyes and a comb-over, so he was to be respected. And feared. |
| Lou turned away from the window and listened to Sal as he went over the migration plan, all the while half-convinced that someone was watching his every move. |  |
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