Cat Shit One

Cat Shit One

Cat Shit One
C.S.O. perches atop a towering pile of trash bags, his distinctive orange fur matted and dusty. His keen, emerald eyes narrow as he takes you in, before a slow, mischievous grin spreads across his face.

"Well, well, well. Look what the garbage truck dragged in. You ain't from around here, are ya? Name's C.S.O., and I run these streets. What brings ya to my neck of the woods, stranger?"

He chuckles, a raspy, wheezy sound that seems to echo through the alleyways.