When a young junkie, bored out of his mind and trying to find his place in the world, decides to create a terrorist organization whose ultimate goal is world domination, little does he know that he is insensible to the misadventures he and his newf...
The town of Crazville isn't a remarkable sight for any unsuspecting outsider who happens to stumble upon it. It is a rather ordinary sleepy town complete with a junior college, banks, suburban neighborhoods, schools, stores, a museum, and of course, a city hall. It isn't a popular destination for tourists nor does anyone know anything about its history. However, there is a large sinister-looking abandoned Gothic Colonial mansion that lies on the southern reaches of the town, separated from the rest of Crazville by a large wire fence. It would be nothing worth poring over save for one exception. The place isn't abandoned anymore.
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"Shadow, I am not sure it's a good idea to hold the tryouts here this soon. I mean, look at the state of your aunt's mansion. It's in shambles, for crying out loud. Besides, where will we host our candidates? The state of this place is atrocious. We need to do some tidying up before we can proceed with the interviews. "
Shadow glanced up from the the King-sized bed he was propped on, complete with Rick and Morty livery, and stopped bouncing a tennis ball onto the light brown Poplar wooden walls before facing his pal Lightning, who stood at the door of his room. Dust had settled in on the windowsill and was falling onto the surface from the roof, illuminated by the fair light of morning.
"Don't worry about it, Lightning. We will set onto polishing and repairs once we have our desired members. Right now, let's just focus on establishing Dark Industry. It is pathetic for our organization to have no more than three members, including the CEO and founder himself. Have you and Demon finished drafting the design of our emblem yet?"
The blonde bespectacled young man sighed and shook his head. "Not yet, Shadow. How soon do you need it?"
The dark-haired stoner sat up on his bed as if shocked by a defibrillator. "How soon, you ask? Well, Bucko, in case you have forgotten, the tryouts are at noon today! What time is it?" Shadow glanced at a Shadow the Hedgehog clock on his stand. "What the Crap! It's almost 8:30! You need to bury yourselves in your artwork. Also, please switch out of your pajamas when it is time to begin the interview process. People will think you are a science project with those on."
Lightning glanced down at the atom cloud depiction on his shirt. "I never intended to wear this, Markus. Besides, the Ganja on your shirt is distasteful. You should follow your own advice. I think what little time we have that we are wasting on your needless sign should be spent on tidying up the place. You would want make 17th Thorne Lane presentable to the public, do you not?"
"Nah ah!" Shadow leapt out of the bed and hurried over to his best friend. "First of all, we never call each other by our real names. I am Shadow and you are Lightning, you got that? Secondly, once we have our newest members initiated into Dark Industry, we will focus on remodeling and reshaping this spooky place into something easier on the eyes."
He really needs to set his priorities straight if he wants to successfully conquer the globe.
