Allan Ditullio had never been so terrified as he was now. As he gasped for breath behind the tree, he stayed vigilant to the quiet crunching of leaves beneath his assailant's feet, looking for someone, looking for him. Preparing to attack with his small brush, he wondered how exactly it had come to this.
"Are you sure it's fine like this?" the man in the car asked.
"Of course it's fine. Everything I do is fine," Allan responded, wiping the grease off of his brow. He was a mechanic at Watson's Auto Service part-time at the moment, but he wasn't worried about the bad pay or horrific working conditions. What he was worried about, however, was how he was going to meet his contact, a man named Hale Senex. Working as a secret investigator can do that to you.
"Well, if you're sure that it's good, then I'll be going," the man said, grabbing the keys and driving off.
"Why, that red-fished herring! He forgot to pay his bill!" Grumbling, Allan went onto his break and started heading towards the police station. Along the way, he met an old man with an impressively flamboyant cloak.
"Hail, traveller! What brings you to the humble abode of Minden the Sorcerer?" the man called out to Allan from across the street.
"That's a street."
"It sure is. What are you going to do about it?"
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to walk away and forget this ever happened." Grumbling once more, Allan turned to leave when a rock hit him in the head. He turned around once more and stomped over to the old man.
"What was that for?" he asked loudly.
"I can help you in your quest. I know what you need and how to get it. I know everything," the man replied, flourishing his cloak.
"I see. Then that means you know I'm about to meet Hale Senex to help him find out about the cultists in the town?"
"Of course. Minden the Sorcerer knows everything, after all," he replied in a mystical tone. He then turned around to stare at the alley cats. After a minute or so, Allan tried talking to him once more.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Those dirty cats, always ruining my house. They slurp up my meats and fart on my couch. I'll get them one of these glopnerps..." the man muttered, slapping Allan on the back.
"I see. I'll leave you to that, then," Allan said, quickly backing away.
Minden the Sorcerer slowly began grinning. His plan had worked. He pulled out his ogrish phone, then quietly called someone. It was answered on the first ring.
"Did you do it?"
"I sure did, Onion one," Minden replied with a smirk.
"Way to go, Onion Two."
"One last thing, Onion One."
"What is it, Onion Two?"
"I found the name of the investigator. He goes by the name Hale Senex."
"Excellent work, Onion Two. Ogre and out."
"Ogre and out."