Jiggy awoke on a hot, muggy afternoon and attempt to un-stick himself from the bed. His hand was sore from slamming on the "snooze" button of his alarm - he looked over and read the time:
"3:45, damn. Overslept again, oh well..." He gathered his strength and...
"Hrrrmph..." Gaspard "Jiggy" Molyneux pushed himself, against the force of gravity, out of his bed. Beneath his sweat-stained pillow, Jiggy found a plain, beige envelope addressed from the Mayor - the Red Queen of Hearts...........
"These bumbling idiots couldn't organize their way out of a paper bag. As much as it pains me to request a lowly magical creature like you, your assistance is needed at the Museum of Fine Artes this evening.
You are to promptly arrive at 6:00 PM and not a moment sooner - the guests are there to observe in awe the art exhibit, a priceless collection of magical artifacts we've retained from the Land of Oz. Some of these magical artifacts, fallen into the wrong hands, could wreak havoc on our Darktown sanctuary in Dark City. In order for this event to be a success, I must beef up security and you will be my extra security, or extra beef or something like that.
1. You should be present, but not seen or heard.
2. You are to guard these artifacts with your life.
Signed Begrudgingly,
Her Highness, The Mayor, Red Queen of Hearts
"She's such an asshole, but at the very least, I now have something to do tonight," recognizing immediately that he would probably have sat around with his posse, Jiggy waded over to the windowsill and looked out at the limitless, but most likely shitty day facing him.
"It's still early and it's already getting dark outside, heh." It was already getting dark and the sun set lazily in the smoggy distance; for just a split second, it seemed like some sort of cliche metaphor for Jiggy's life - the grand finale always arrives too fast. The thought of that annoyed Jiggy, but he kept his cool, mostly. Without much consciousness, Jiggy assembled his essentials, including the gaudy scorpion ring on his oak nightstand, for he felt it would almost certainly be a long night. Ever-prepared, the miscreant with an afro brought his toothbrush with him, just in case. Jiggy was amazed how his life could be reduced to a sparse few sundries and still have everything fit within a modestly-sized leather briefcase.
Stepping over the 3 unconscious gang-members who were comfortably sleeping on Jiggy's floor, he instinctively selected a semi-formal outfit. Once Jiggy approved his blazer and torn, dusty jeans, his thug mentality suddenly shifted into work-mode. Jiggy's work-boots accidentally roused one of the sleeping henchmen from his alcohol-induced slumber. His eyes lit up at Jiggy's briefcase:
"_Nice man-purse, Jiggy. Going on a date?""Actually, it's a briefcase and I'm headed to work. To, you know, get paid and shit. Man the fort while I'm gone and please just don't fuck with the television again." Jiggy semi-acknowledged the distraction on the floor.
"Hey, I get paid too...sometimes." and with a last mumble, the goon fell right back into slumber on the same, stained, and crowded wooden floor. Jiggy Molyneux slammed shut the chipped metallic door behind him and headed off towards the portal station; Jiggy hoped to reach Darktown Gate precisely by 5 PM, giving him an hour before he had to work.
"At this rate, maybe I'll even get to eat before I have to work! he proclaimed.