Prologue

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Welcome to my sob story of danger. The name's Cooley. Why? Thrown in the cooler multiple times by the fuzz. Don't get caught by the fuzz- you hear? My parents were never around when I was young and left me on the road, not caring if I would be okay or not. I was 10 by then and was accepted into the home of Mickey. Mickey's an okay guy. He's got his pretty-boy looks and blue switchblade to keep him delicate. He stays outta trouble and is real good with animals. Me? Well, I got nothin'. I'm a good guy I think. I got the gang and the looks. I don't need nothin' more or less.

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