Try, Die, Ratpeat (#1)

The clouds above were as dark as the sewage pouring out into the bay. It looked like it was gonna rain, but in a city like Brockton, you could never be too certain. This city had a rat problem bigger than Hamelin's, and I was called to be its piper.

It all started a day ago when a client walked into my closet like a gambler holdin' all the aces. Not the dame I was expectin', but a bloke who almost seemed like he was a desert mirage. I knew he was trouble like a missingno off the coast of cinnabar, but the lead he brought was water, and boy I was parched.

The sewer pipe gaped open like the bay's own gates of hell. I heard the legions inside were stranger than any demon. But I had plenty of six-shooters in my pocket, a bottle of liquid courage, and all the time in the world.

Well, that's enough dallyin'. Time to get a move on.
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