He remembered how the hero had leapt from the moving motorcycle and crashed right through the plate glass window into the mafia don's restaurant! Such skill! Such boldness! Ricky had been moved to tears as he saw the scene unfold on the theater screen in all its magnificent glory.

He was about to reenact the guy's deft roll across the sidewalk when he stopped himself just before his hand touched the ground. Quickly standing up, Ricky stared at his hands in horror, realizing how unsanitary the walkway was. Moaning in disgust, he wiped them on the back of his jeans before continuing with his reverie.

In his mind, the unquestionably best action scene, however, the one that had driven Ricky absolutely crazy with amazement and excitement had been when—

Ricky stopped walking and frowned.

Looking around him, Ricky suddenly realized he was all alone on the sidewalk. A minute ago he was afraid of being seen and embarrassed, but now he was genuinely concerned. Where was everyone else from the theater? Wasn't the Metro supposed to be somewhere ahead of him, just a short walk from the theater?

He lifted his calculator watch.

12:12am

Holy cow, it was late!

Even worse, he was now officially lost.

Ricky's frown deepened as he envisioned the look on his mother's face when he arrived home later. He had promised her he could do this, that he could finally go to a show all by himself. He was twenty-three, for Pete's sake! And he sure didn't want to be embarrassed by bringing her with him again like last year. Ricky recalled how he had wasted half the night simply explaining to her who the characters were! She wasn't a fan! She didn't even watch the show!

No, he definitely made the right choice by not bringing her with him this time. Only now he had to figure out where he was, and how to get back home, or else she'd never let him go out by himself again. And that would be real sad.

Reversing direction, he started walking back toward the theater, hoping he could ask one of the employees there for directions. Before he had taken three steps he noticed the two dark figures emerging from the alley ahead of him. Ricky slowed down, squinting at them in suspicion.

They stopped at the corner and continued talking quietly at the sidewalk. One of them looked over in his direction, then glanced behind him at the other guy. They were just standing there, not moving. Ricky stopped walking.

This isn't good, Ricky, he said to himself. No sir, this isn't good at all.

Ricky turned around to cross the street and bumped into something hard. Something big. He yelped and fell back a few steps, staring up at the massive man who had appeared on the sidewalk behind him.

The man was a few inches taller and much, much fatter than him. Ricky mumbled a quick apology and started to walk around him. The man spread his arms out wide, shaking his head.

"Uh-uh," he said, frowning. "Going the wrong way."

Ricky looked up at him, confused. The wrong way? This guy didn't know where he was going! So why would he say—

Then Ricky's face fell as his mind slowly began to piece the puzzle together. He glanced back over his shoulder at the two men he saw earlier. They were now walking toward him. Ricky whimpered and spun around, darting for the street.

The larger guy reached out and grabbed him by his collar, pulling him back toward the sidewalk. Ricky began choking, his buttoned-up shirt digging into his neck. He coughed loudly as he was dragged up the sidewalk.

"Said you're goin' the wrong way," the man said. He released his grip and pushed Ricky into the nearest alley. Within seconds, the other two men had joined them, following the larger man as he escorted Ricky further into the depths of the deserted dead end.

"Who's your new friend, Danny?" the shorter one said, smirking at Ricky. His thin, peach-fuzz mustache somehow reminded Ricky of a cartoon rat he had once seen on TV.

"Dunno," Danny answered, shrugging. "Didn't ask his name."

"Yo. Lost boy. What's your name?"

Ricky stared at them blankly, wide-eyed. His eyes bounced between the two of them for a few seconds before they broke away to glance at the tall walls surrounding them on either side. He was absolutely, unquestionably, supremely petrified, and he was focusing every ounce of his concentration on not wetting his new jeans, because...

"Hey! Pay attention!" The man yelled, clapping his hands together.

Ricky brought his head around in an instant, locking his glassy, fear-filled eyes on him.

"Asked your name!"

"R-Ricky..."

"What? Speak up, man!"

Ricky swallowed. He stared down at the ground as if he were being scolded by a teacher at school. "Ricky," he muttered.

"Dicky?"

He shook his head. "No. It's Ricky..."

"They call you 'dick' for short?"

The man snorted, jabbing an elbow into the thin guy standing behind him. His friend pretended to laugh, but it was obvious he didn't really find it funny.

Ricky shook his head again. "No! My... my name isn't Dicky! It's..."

"Ricky," the man interrupted. "Yeah, I know. I'm just messin' with you." He smiled and jabbed a thumb at the large man beside him. "This here's Danny and James. An' you can call me Izzy."

Ricky watched them, his eyebrows knit in concerned confusion. Why was he telling him their names? Why would they think he cares about their names? It didn't make any sense...

"So. Ricky," Izzy snarled, shaking his head. "Whatchu doing down here, man? It's probably past your bedtime, ain't it? I mean, what are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"I'm twenty-three!" Ricky protested, louder than he'd intended. His face flushed bright red, partly from embarrassment, but mostly from feeling offended. He straightened his posture in an attempt to make himself look taller.

"Wow," Izzy said, "Twenty-three, huh? Could've fooled me. You look a lot... younger..." He snickered to himself and looked over at James, jabbing him in the ribs again. James clearly didn't appear happy, but he forced a wry smile.

"So, let's make this easy, shall we Ricky? Danny, James an' me, we're here to make sure people like you don't get hurt walkin' around places like this. Especially so late at night."

Ricky stared at him blankly.

"But we can't do it for free, you know what I'm sayin'? I mean, we gotta eat an' stuff. So can you help us out?"

Ricky's brow crinkled. "I... I don't understand."

Izzy laughed. "We want your wallet, alright? So how about you hand it over?"

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