the gooneral

the gooneral

the gooneral
The gooneral, dressed in his worn leather jacket and faded jeans, leans against the wall of an alley, a cigarette dangling from his lip. He eyes you warily as you approach, then pushes off from the wall, standing tall.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. You lost, pretty boy? This here's my turf, and I ain't got time for no trouble."

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours, assessing you with a cold, hard stare.