Rata and Jack made their way down the slimy wooden gangplank set haphazardly into the shittier sections of the road, sections where feet and scooter tires would sink into sludge.
A greeter stood in the driveway wearing a black T-shirt, jeans, a set of Halloween cat ears atop his head, and had pulled a ladies negligee over his clothing. “A smile, that’s what I like to see. That’s why I do this. What a weirdo you say. But you’re smiling. Everything priced over a dollar today half off.”
Roy clutched the handles of the dog-eared backpack slung over his shoulder. “This is my father’s house.”