Chuck landed on the ground with a loud crunch. The wind was knocked out of him, but he was otherwise uninjured. The first thing he noticed was the stench. He put his hands over his nose and mouth, he crinkled his nose in disgust as the foul stench of rancid garbage assaulted his nostrils. Seagulls squawked loudly as they circled around him like vultures to prey. Chuck looked around at the almost majestic mounds of refuse that stood almost twenty feet high as they seemingly stretched for miles. He jumped backwards as a creature scurried across his foot. At first he thought it was a medium sized dog, but realized it was a rat. Quickly trying to get away from the freak of nature, Chuck scampered backwards and tripped over a broken microwave. He tried to stand, but lost his footing on something slimy and rolled head first down the steep peak of garbage.

He finally landed with a thump in a level pile of garbage. Chuck groaned. He rolled over and looked up. There was a landslide of trash sliding in his direction. His hands went up over his face for protection as the rubbish approach. Chuck closed his eyes and screamed as the pile began to accumulate on top of him.

"Yo... You can stop screaming."

Chuck looked up and saw the blue sky, the gulls flying above and a man standing over him. The man extended his hand and helped him to his feet. He even helped him pick the pieces of garbage off himself.

"You aiight? I mean you was screaming when I dragged you away from the garbage. You seem aiight to me..."

"Um... yeah..." He dusted himself off. "I think so..."

"Hey! This ain't a playground! Why don't you get out of here? I'm trying to work." Both men turned to see a man with in a bulldozer hollering at them. He motioned for them to move.

"We're talking here! The trash ain't going nowhere. You can wait five minutes," the man who saved Chuck yelled at the bulldozer's operator.

He grabbed Chuck's arm and led him away the bulldozer and the garbage. After a short climb down the hills of trash, they were on a dirt path.

"Thanks for saving me."

"Yeah, yeah no problem."

"I'm Chuck." He extended his hand.

Accepting his hand with a firm handshake, the man replied, "Auggie."

"Where are we?"

"The Isle of Stat..."

"What?"

"Staten Island. The Fresh Kills Land Fill located in Staten Island, New York City. Come on..." Auggie waved his hand over his face in an attempt to dissipate the smell. "Sam ain't paying me enough to stand here in the dump. You aiight though?"

"Yeah..."

"Come on then, let's go. That's unless you want the seagulls to peck your eyes out?"

They walked a little further to a livery cab waiting by the gate.

"What you doin' at the land fill anyway?" Auggie asked once they were inside the cab.

"Um..."

"Nevermind. I don't want to know. Can I give you a ride anywhere? I have to go meet Sam anyways."

"How about the bus station?"

"Which bus station? Where you trying to go?"

"Chicago."

"Aiight, Port Authority it is..."