(1) Puck: Toronto

A lonely man walks the night away down city streets.

Eugene Judd, recently single, occasionally low on self-esteem... a feeling that, despite his soaring spirit, finds its way into his psyche once in a while. I suppose that makes him normal...

She ended it. Not because of looks, or because he's a dwarf. It was a mild clash of personalities that made her believe that they were better off just being friends.

In a day or two, maybe even a week since she had a certain laugh that he loved, Judd will shake off the malaise and move on. Tonight's his night to wallow, though, and since it happens so rarely, he subsumes it, treating these emotions like they're exotic foreigners who have interesting stories to tell.

Eugene Judd has known such tremendous pain in his life that such frivolous dramas do little to affect him in any significant way.

Physically, his body has been twisted into dwarfism by, first, a sinister magic, and then by a noble guardianship of that beast. It wracks him with knifelike spasms most days, but it's his special burden to bear.

Psychologically, images of lost friends creep out of the corners in his mind and haunt him, the sight of their tearful blood cradled on battlefields and back alleys.

Emotionally, the unrequited love of the one woman he's ever pined for still, to this day, plucks that sorrowful chord deep down, it's sad note resonating throughout his soul. Heather... married to a great friend of his and forever bound to THAT love.

So... A sweet girl from Thunder Bay's "Dear John" phone call can hardly scratch the surface of Eugene Judd's pain threshold.

He walks, though, and each step pumps an ounce of life back into his deflated spirit. It's become dark out, the time slipping past smoothly. Having lived in Toronto since last Spring, Judd's familiar enough with the city to notice when something's amiss. And here on Crammer Street half the small time storefronts are dark. A sense of uneasiness seems to pour from it's alleys. Judd pauses at a corner.

Intuitively he simply watches...

Nothing too bad, but still, there is a problem here, and, seeking answers, he enters one of the few open establishments.

Judd: Evening. Glad to see you're open, eh.
Clerk: (his bad mood apparent through his professional response) Evening. What can I do for you?
Judd: Well... let's see... you're a hardware store. I mean, THIS is a hardware store. You're a clerk, eh. (He grins coyly hoping to elicit a response)
Clerk: (blandly) Yep.
Judd: Say, pal... Can't help but notice... things'r kinda quiet around here tonight. On the street, I mean. Did someone die? (Immediately Eugene cringes at his thoughtless remark! Of course... the best bet is exactly that. Someone from the neighborhood has passed away and he just glibly danced on their grave).

Clerk: (not eager to play along) Look... I got alot to do. You need to buy something, buy something. 'Don't need browsers here tonight, friend.
Judd: Hey, I'm sorry, pal. Didn't mean any harm.

Outside, down the street a ways, glass shatters. Hustling over to the doorway, both Eugene and the clerk peer out. Thirty feet away three men walk off in the night, leaving a bewildered shop owner to tend to the damage scattered on the sidewalk.

Judd: Well I'll be damned. You're being PINCHED. That right? Some tough guy leaning on you folks?
Clerks: I paid my share... I get to stay open tonight. Me, and a few others. Marty over there... ain't so lucky.
Judd: Oh, I don't know about that. What can you tell me about them?
Clerk: (incredulous) Are you nuts? How about nothin'.
Judd: Ah.. is that part of the agreement then? They steal your cash and you get to sit pretty and take it, eh? Doesn't sound like a fair shake.
Clerk: What's fair got to do with it? Can't afford to relocate, can't afford to retire. Cops don't care. Mayor's probably on the take. Most of us, we have to make do with what we got. We ain't like you "superheroes".
Judd: (surprised) Super--? Hahaha. That's good. You watch the news, eh. Well, you probably heard that we're out of the superhero racket these days. Doesn't mean we still can't make a difference. Tell you what, you tell me what you know and I swear... I'll make a difference. (his smile is infectious, genuine)

The clerk, incredulous still, takes a chance on Puck, and spills the beans...

-end (1)