Moonlight shines through the cracked sky, adding a bit of weak, white and blue light to the dirty orange auras of the streetlamps. Jayson hunkers down behind the trash bin, his body hidden by shadows. His nostrils flare from the stench of alcohol, urine, decomposing waste lingering in the air. He risks glance around the corroded steel. There they were - Rolland Longstaff and his thugs, spilling out of a rundown eatery called the Loaded Hare Tavern, their voices slurred and a hare, easily towering over them, shouting at them and angrily whipping his towel in their direction.

Rolland's gang laughs, and Rolland briefly turns around to flip off the porcupine with both hands before bumping into Shae (who has dyed his hair blue this time). The pair course corrects, and Rolland laughs and slurs out something while they walk down the sidewalk.

Despite how much he strains his ears and tries to focus on the group, Jayson's mind keeps drifting back to yesterday's bizarre encounter with Trafford Augustine. The memory of being pinned to a tree and having his cheek licked by that oddball was hard to shake off. It had been a deeply unsettling experience for Jayson; one he'd rather forget but couldn't help but replay in his mind. Made worse by the fact that Trafford felt no pain when his hand was burned to the bone and how he was able to be in multiple places at once. And all this after he melted his brains in public to avoid going to the precinct.

In Jayson's opinion, Trafford’s claims of not being cloned hold no water after everything that happened yesterday.

With that in mind, Jayson forces himself to push it back to continue trailing Rolland's group for clues about Ramsey Prosper. The sooner they give Trafford what he wants, the better.

Jayson slinks from shadow to shadow in his quiet pursuit of Rolland's gang. The group turns down a trash-strewn alley, their drunken laughter echoing off piss-stained brick and murals of a winged DNA strand over a rotting world.

Jayson slides behind a dumpster and peeks out to watch them travel down the alley. His eyes narrow, his nose twitches from the stench, and his muscles coil, ready to continue forward.

“What’cha doing?” whispers Lexia next to Jayson’s ear.

Jayson screams and jumps, falling against a dumpster with an echoing thud, and Lexia dives after him, rolling to a crouch and pushing herself against the wall while drawing her knife and pistol. Both lay still, hearts hammering in their chests and mouths sealed tight to be prevent any more noise from coming out.

Several seconds pass, and both peek around the dumpster and see that Rolland’s group is gone.

Jayson growls, grabs Lexia’s large ear and twists it, making her wince and twist her body.

“What the hell are you doing, Lexia?” growls Jayson. “Better yet why are you on my side?”

Lexia elbows Jayson in the gut, expelling all air from him. He drops to the ground, wheezing for air, and Lexia sheaths her weapons.

“I saw you trailing Rolland’s group, and since they were on your side, I wanted to join in a little espionage before I went to work,” says Lexia.

Jayson sits up, still holding his gut. “Oh really? Considering how often I see you goofing around, I thought you were unemployed.”

“Well, I’m not. I have a job.”

“Oh yeah? Where?” snarks off Jayson.

“Stella's Sparkles.”

“As a dish washer or toilet scrubber?”

Lexia folds her arms across her chest and narrows her eyes at Jayson. “Neither. I'm a dancer."

Jayson barks out a laugh, then wheezes again, clutching his throbbing stomach. "You? A stripper? Yeah, right."

Lexia's ears flatten back, her jaw clenching. "I'm not a stripper, you jerk. I’m a pole dancer, and I'm pretty popular over there. If you could afford the entrance fee you would be drooling all over me."

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Jayson struggles to his feet, still chuckling. "Sure, sure. And I bet you were employee of the month too."

“I was actually. February to be exact.”

Jayson’s smile drops. “Wait. Are you serious?”

Lexia nods sharply. “I am.”

Jayson narrows his eyes and rubs his chin, trying to imagine her toned body of patchwork fur twirling around a pole, white hair flying, brown eyes smoldering under the stage lights...

“Nah, I don’t see it,” says Jayson.

Lexia’s jaw drops. “How? Am I ugly to you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I am going to worry about it.”

“Then worry about it on your side. I have to find Rolland again, no thanks to you.”

“Why?”

Jayson stares at Lexia.

Lexia stares back.

Jayson continues staring at Lexia.

Lexia blinks.

Jayson frowns and his ears dip. “Ramsey Prosper.”

“Ohhhh~ Right. Him,” says Lexia.

Jayson nods, forcing a smile. “Yeah~ Him.”

“You think Rolland would have led you to him?”

“I know he would have.”

Lexia rolls her eyes with a scoff. "Wow. That shows how dumb you are, sometimes. That follow bad guy to other bad guy idea never works. You need to coax information out of people, not follow them around and hope for information."

“That’s literally what-”

Jayson’s voice is cut off with Lexia pressing her fingers to his lips, shushing him. This earns her a glare from the Hobo.

“Let me get the info out of Rolland using my beauty and feminine charm. I’ll have him giving me his social security number and credit card info in no time,” says Lexia.

"You’re the last person to talk about feminine charm," says Jayson. Then a sudden realization hits him like a brick to brain. "Wait a second. The park! Rolland's crew always hits up the Charm Park after getting trashed at the Loaded Hare."

Lexia's ears perk up. "Well then, what are we waiting for? Onward!"

They quickly make their way through the grungy streets, past boarded-up storefronts and overflowing trash cans. Charm Park looms ahead, a patch of sickly grass and spindly trees surrounded by a rusted chain-link fence.

And there, lounging on a graffiti-covered bench in front of a park with a worn-down playground and basketball/tennis court, are Rolland and his goons. They each have a bottle of alcohol and are guffawing at some joke Jayson and Lexia missed.

The two vigilantes crouch behind a busted-up car, watching Rolland’s group.

"I can’t hear what they’re saying. Bust out your satellite audio spy thing,” says Jayson.

“Can’t,” says Lexia.

“Why not?”

“I spilled soda on it when I was trying to change its battery, which caused it to burst into flames, so I had to douse it in salt.”

Jayson sneers, lifts his finger, but ends with clenching his fist and huffing heavily.

“Fine. We’ll just have to get closer," says Jayson.

Lexia shoves a glossy flyer in his face. "Here. Turn this into a paper airplane and fly it over to them."

Jayson squints at the flyer. It's an ad for Stella's Sparkles, promising tantalizing delights, cold drinks, and average food. Featured on the flyer is a silhouette of a vixen dancer wrapped around a pole and ten percent off entrance fee. He raises an eyebrow at Lexia.

"Seriously? You just carry these around?" says Jayson.

Lexia huffs. "It's called marketing. Now shut up and make it into a paper airplane and do the flicky thingy to fly it over to them."

Jayson sighs, and his deft fingers crease the ad into a sleek paper airplane. He aims, and with a flick of his wrist, he sends it soaring towards Rolland's group. It lands perfectly in Shae’s blue hair.

Rolland plucks the flyer from Shae’s hair, his bloodshot eyes widening as he scans it. A slow, leering grin spreads across his face while his companions crowd around him.

With them distracted, Lexia and Jayson take the opportunity to scurry closer. They stop behind a thick bush and listen intently.

"Well, lookie here boys," says Rolland, his slurring voice carrying across the quiet park. "An angel just invited us to Stella's Sparkles.”

“I hear that place has the finest tails in town," says Dacre.

“I haven’t been there before. Is it good?” asks Cyrus.

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m going to say it’s good,” says Rolland.

“I don’t know, guys. Claribel might not like it if we go there,” says Shae.

“Last I checked, she ain't your girlfriend,” says Dacre.

“Yeah, and she ain’t ever getting naked for you, so stop being a weirdo,” says Rolland.

“A man can dream!” cries Shae.

Lexia covers her mouth to hide her snickers, and Jayson rubs his face while Dacre and Cyrus laugh.

“Shae and Clari-Bel sitt-in’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” sings Dacre and Cyrus.

“Alright, that’s enough!” says Rolland. “We’re going to Samantha’s Sparkles and we’re going to get sparkled!”

Raucous cheers and whistles erupt from the group as they stumble to their feet, and they wobble down the road, drinking, and for Cyrus and Dacre, they’re still singing, despite Rolland telling them to shut up.

After their voices fade, Jayson and Lexia poke their heads out from behind the bush to watch them go. Jayson stares in disbelief, and Lexia smirks and rubs her hands together.

"Bingo," says Lexia says; and then she turns her smirk to Jayson. "Told you I was popular."

Jayson rolls his eyes. "They didn’t say it was your tail.”

“They said tails, and I’m one of those tails. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to work. Keep trailing them just to see if they say anything, and I will be inside, ready to seduce the info out of them with my feminine charm and beauty. Ta-ta, Jayson.”

Lexia runs off and Jayson shakes his head and looks towards Rolland’s group, seeing that they have gotten further down the sidewalk. He huffs and runs after them.