Going to work the following day, Craig had a plan. He had entirely forgotten about the news story from the day before and was surprised to see the place crawling with cops. Father Maxi was standing to the side by the line of pine trees. His face was pinched in displeasure, his arms crossed over his chest. Craig made his way over to him, greeting him evenly.

"Good morning, Father Maxi," he said, coming to a stop at his side.

"It is far from a 'good' morning, Craig," the priest replied hotly. "We can't even get in until we've been spoken to. Some crazy horse-hockey about the serial killer being one of us."

"We aren't the only people who go in and out of the church freely," Craig commented.

"No, but they don't care. We're the most likely, so we are barred from doing our sacred duties."

They turned their attention back to the scene, watching officers bringing the dogs around to sniff everything. When this brought up nothing, they began to look for fingerprints and DNA. Once they had gathered a few samples, taken pictures, and bagged everything, Sergent Yates approached.

"Alright, you two," he said. "Follow me, I have some questions that you need to answer."

Entering the church, Craig glanced around. For some reason, most of the pews had been turned over to be searched. He guessed that they needed to be thorough, but the pews were a bitch and a half to move. Couldn't they have set them back up at least?

They went into Father Maxi's office, the priest sitting down at his desk, then gesturing for Yates and Craig to take the chairs in front of him.

"Please, have a seat," he offered.

'Damn, power move,' the youth pastor though, forcing himself not to smile at the annoyance on Yates' face as they took the chairs.

"So, as you know, ten people were found dead here yesterday. Do you know anything about that?" Yates began, taking out his notepad and a pencil. "You two look mighty suspicious, and I'd hate to have to put a couple of holy men in jail."

"It was a cult," Craig answered as Father Maxi opened his mouth to reply. This got their attention, and they both turned to stare at him. "Yeah, it was a cult. They were trying to summon Satan or something. They tried to sacrifice me, but all they got was a little demon and it killed them then took off."

The silence that followed was thick enough to be cut with a butter knife. Father Maxi stared at him with his mouth partially open, and Yates began to scribble furiously, writing down everything Craig had said. He asked a few questions to get details, then stood awkwardly.

"Uh... good day, gentlemen," he mumbled, then left, barking orders at his men to gather their things and get back to the station. Once they were gone, Father Maxi had a few questions of his own.

"Where you ever going to mention this to me?"

"No. I forgot about them in that room, actually. I've had better things to think about," Craig answered flatly.

"Weren't those kids in your group?"

"They literally tried to get me killed. Sorry I don't feel sad about them all dying. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to ask someone a question." Craig left the office, leaving the flummoxed priest behind.

Craig went to the front of the church and knelt before the alter. Bowing his head and clasping his hands together, he began to pray.

"Hey, Jesus. Haven't seen you around in a while, but I have a question I could really use your advice on. If you could pop in and see me, I'd be so happy." He wondered idly what it would be like for someone from out of town to see him address the son of God in such a way, as if he was a friend who had just moved away. Honestly, that wasn't extremely far from the truth. Jesus had moved out of South Park and into the League of Super Best Friends to be closer if they needed him.

As he knelt, a hand lightly touched his hair, and he recognized the presence immediately.

"Craig Tucker. It has been quite a while, my son," Jesus' gentle voice addressed him.

Craig stood up, shaking his hand. "Thanks for coming. I have a problem."

"Indeed, you do. Having an imp around is a dangerous thing," Jesus agreed, his voice grave. "But I know why you've asked me here, and I do have an answer for you."

Hope filled Craig's chest, and a small smiled appeared on his face. "Really? There's a way to help Imp get his memories back?"

"Naturally. If you're lucky, it could even help him become human again. It all depends on him."

"What do I need to do?"

"Very little, if I'm honest. You can help him just by taking him around this town."

Craig' raised an eyebrow. "That's... That's it? Just take him around South Park? Why would that help him?"

Jesus smiled. "Because he's from here, of course."

What felt like a tidal wave of ice cold water crashed over the youth pastor, causing him to cross his arms tightly in a vain attempt to stay warm. "What do you mean he's from here? Imp isn't that old, he looks about my age. I would remember him if he was from here."

The man sighed and patted his arm. "I'm afraid dark energies aren't so kind. Yes, he is from here, but I know nothing else of him. It seems all trace of him was erased from this realm when he was pulled into Hell, however that unfortunate occurrence came to pass. My advice is take him around to see if it triggers any memories in him. But be careful. Because we don't know how he ended up in Hell, it could have terrible ramifications for someone to potentially see him and recall who he is."

Gulping, Craig nodded, now much less hopeful. Imp was... from South Park. They had likely grown up together, maybe even been friends. How could he have just forgotten a friend like that?

The rest of the day was spent in discomforted thought. If he needed to be careful with who saw Imp, what would be the best way to go about showing him around the town? He wrote out multiple lists of how to do it, trying to think of ways to have the smallest amount of interaction with other people as possible.

When his trash can was full, and his patience almost gone, Craig settled on his final plan. Until he had to write it down, he didn't realize how much random shit the tiny mountain town had, like damn, did they really need more than one grocery store?

To get to everything, it would take a couple hours. They would go out on Monday and stop at a few places, and end the night with breaking into the school, then stopping by the coffee shop for a warm drink before returning home. He figured since Imp liked coffee so much, maybe having it from a place that actually knew how to make it would help.

Reading over the list, he picked up the phone on his desk and dialed.

"Kenny's Drug Stop, you got the pop,and I got the lock. What can I get for ya?"

Craig sighed. "You have to stop answering the phone like that," he said. "It's not funny, doesn't make sense, and could get you fired."

"After everything I've done for this place, they'd be lost without me. Anyway, nice to hear from you, Tucker, it's been a while. What can I put you down for?" Kenny asked, his voice cheerful as Craig heard him picking up the notepad that was always by the phone of City Wok.

"Actually, I need your more illegal services."

"Damn, and you're lecturing me on how to talk? Fine, what can I get you from the secret menu?"

"I need you to help me break into the elementary school tomorrow night. I... have a friend who needs to go there."

"Right." He listened to the other scribble down whatever his code for breaking and entering was before Kenny spoke again. "That all for you?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. See you tomorrow. Since I consider you a friend and that lock is hardly a challenge, the price is five bucks and letting me meet this friend of yours."

"Deal."

They hung up without another word, and Craig stood, stretching. He tucked his work into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, then bent and pulled the bag from his trash can. After locking the door of his office and tossing out the trash in the dumpster, he headed home. He was glad the youth group meeting had been cancelled. He was far too distracted at the moment to want to bother with teaching kids about God and Jesus. In fact, he had entirely forgotten to even write a lesson plan for that night.

The walk home was blissfully short and peaceful. Entering the house, he was met by the other three. The first thing Craig noticed was Imp's slight vibrating. It seemed the Hell creature had drunk more coffee than he should have again. Setting his bag by the door and removing his shoes, he went into the kitchen, causally opening the trash to check it, relieved to see the thing full with a massive amount of coffee grounds. At least he hadn't eaten them again.

"How was work, Craig?" Tricia asked from her spot at the table, her homework spread out in front of her, Imp sitting close by and reading through her textbook with a confused look on his face.

"It was fine. The police came by, but they didn't stay long," he said, rummaging around the fridge. Hmm, what sounded good?

"Have they found out anything?" she pressed, her interest peeked.

"Yeah. It was a cult. They summoned something they shouldn't have and they all were killed." Ooo, was that chicken? Pulling it out and discovering it was indeed thawing chicken, he smiled and set to work, rolling up his sleeves. He put together the ingredients for a fry batter, then diced the chicken up into chunks, ignoring his father and Tricia as they fired a million questions at him.

Imp got up and moved to stand next to him, watching him work. "What are you making?"

"Tempura chicken. Tricia always calls it chicken pops." He smiled at the imp, and the other looked away with a light blush. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Tricia and Thomas, and they looked at one another knowingly.

Craig set a pot of oil on the stove, getting out a large serving plate and covering it with two paper towels. "Here, you can help me," he said softly to Imp, guiding him over. "Just look out for the oil, when it bubbles, it splashes and might burn you."

His blush growing, Imp simply nodded, standing at the counter just beside the pot, Craig behind him with his arms on either side, gently showing him what to do. Thomas got up and went upstairs, knowing if he stayed he would say something to ruin it. Tricia remained in place, watching with wide eyes. Never before had she seen her stoic brother do something so... sweet.

Craig himself didn't know why he was doing this either. If he was honest with himself, which he refused to be, he very much enjoyed being so close to Imp, feeling the other's warmth against his chest.

Together they dropped some of the batter-covered chicken into the pot, standing in silence as they waited the few minutes for it to be ready. The delicious smell soon filled the house and Imp's stomach rumbled.

"Did you eat today?" Craig murmured in his ear, making Imp blush harder.

"No, I didn't. I drank a container of coffee though," he admitted.

Craig smiled. "You can eat anything you want, you know. Don't worry about asking. This place is your home." The words fell so easily from him that Craig didn't realize what he'd said for a moment. It was true anyway. The longer he spent with the imp, the more he found himself craving his attention.

When the chicken was ready, they parted, but slowly, each lingering longer than they needed too. Unable to stand her brother's stubbornness, Tricia groaned and dropped her head onto the table with a loud thunk, getting the pair's attention.

"What's with you?" he asked, stepping away from Imp and grabbing a fork from the drawer beside him. He speared the chicken pieces, removing them from the oil and setting them on the paper towels to soak up the extra grease. Imp skittered away to the other side of the kitchen, and Craig felt his heart drop slightly. Did Imp not like how close they had been?

Tricia's voice pulled him back. "You are the stupidest gay man I have ever met in my entire goddamn life," she scolded, making him roll his eyes.

"That's an accomplishment, considering I'm not gay." Usually he would have put up more of a fight, but at the moment, he just couldn't bring himself too. Whether it was exhaustion from how often this topic seemed to come up, or having other things on his mind, Craig said nothing more to her pokes and prods.

Soon, dinner was ready, and the four ate together in silence. To call it awkward or uncomfortable would have been incorrect, but there was definitely something wrong, though none of them could say why. They ate quickly, then separated, Imp and Craig going upstairs to visit Stripe.

Imp laid on the floor, eye level with the fluffy animal, Craig settled in the chair at the desk. He wanted to speak with the other, they had a lot to go over, but for the moment, he felt as though he should not be the one to break the silence. Imp had an inquisitive look on his face, and Craig decided to sit back and wait for him to start.

Imp was silent until they heard the other Tuckers go into their rooms. When the doors closed, he sat up, scooping Stripe into his hands and sitting with his back against the bed, his eyes boring holes into Craig's.

"So... what happened at work?" he finally asked.

Just like that, all the tension that had unknowingly build, was released and Craig let out a sigh, smiling. He recounted his interaction with the police, getting a laugh out of the Hell creature. The cold that had settled in his body dispersed at the sound and he relaxed.

"Anyway, that should be dealt with at least for now." He got up from the chair, relocating himself to Imp's side, using his fingertips to ruffle Stripe's fur lightly. "Besides that, I met with someone today. The coworker I mentioned before."

"You never told me who it was," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that's because it was Jesus."

Imp's head snapped around, his eyes wide. "WHAT!?"

Craig slapped a hand over the Hell creature's mouth, holding his breath and listening for any movement on the other side of his door. When there was none, he dropped his hand. "Yes, I asked Jesus how I could help you," he continued as though nothing had happened. "He gave me very good advice, and I'd like to try the plan he suggested."

"Which is?" Imp hissed suspiciously.

Unsure how much to tell the other, Craig decided to just give him the basics. "He said your memories could come back just by taking you around and getting you familiar with human culture. He went as far as to say you could even... be human again."

Imp went quiet, thinking on this new information. Craig watched as what felt like a million emotions crossed his face before he finally gave a slight nod.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Craig went to bed shortly after, throwing himself on top of the sheets. It didn't take him long to drift away, leaving Imp with Stripe.

Imp settled the guinea pig back into the cage and closed the little door. Since coming to the Tucker house, he had felt strange. A slight pressure in the back of his mind. It wasn't terrible or painful, but it was a weird presence.

He looked across the room at the full-length mirror propped against the wall, taking in his reflection. During the day when he was alone, he didn't bother to hide his true appearance, but when others were around he did. Currently, he looked like any other human, abet a bit more tired than them. Craig had also dug up some clothes for him out of his closet. They were too big, hanging off his thin frame, practically drowning him in blue fabric, but he didn't mind.

The old sweat pants covering his legs were soft from the hundreds of times it had been laundered, as was the faded blue shirt with the word NASA printed on it. He didn't know what it meant, but it must have been something important. Why else would the letters be screaming at him?

Turning away from the mirror, he looked at the one thing he had brought with himself through the portal, nothing more than a pile of shredded green material. It had been with him when he woke in Hell. He couldn't remember if he'd had anything else. Well, anything else but...

Crossing the room, he knelt by the pile and moved it, revealing his only other possession. This one was special, he never went anywhere without it. He didn't understand what was so special about it to him, but he knew he had to keep it safe.

Picking it up, he turned it over in his hands, running his fingers over the yellow puff on the top of the blue hat.


The next morning, Craig's alarm didn't wake him. Imp did.

When the song suddenly burst from the surprisingly loud speak of his phone, Craig didn't hear it. He did, however, hear Imp's surprised screech. That got him to not only open his eyes but sit bolt upright. After fumbling to turn off the alarm, he rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned.

"Morning, Imp," he mumbled, getting out of bed. He had ended up sleeping in his work clothes again, but he didn't care. He was dressing down today anyway. He stretched his arms over his head, then unbuttoned his shirt, dropping the crumpled item into his hamper.

Imp refused to look at him, curled up on his desk chair. He had re-hidden the hat in his fabric bundle after just staring at it for a few hours. The idea of anyone finding it made his stomach roll sickeningly, but for some reason, the thought of Craig finding it made him want to actually be ill. Maybe it was an omen. Whatever the reason, he kept it a secret.

Craig showered, then dressed. By the time he was ready, Imp was downstairs, chugging a mug of black coffee. It was far earlier than Craig was used to getting up, and he wandered over, wanting a cup himself.

Hearing him enter the kitchen, Imp glanced over. His eyes widened, and he quickly turned away, his face quickly turning red. He hadn't seen Craig dress casually until that moment. The youth pastor usually wore a button-down dress shirt and pressed pants with a nice jacket and shiny black shoes, his hair smoothed flat. This was basically the opposite.

Ripped up jeans, a second NASA shirt (seriously, what was this NASA thing?), beat up sneakers, and a zip up hoodie. He hadn't taken the time to straighten his hair either, leaving it to dry naturally, which meant for the moment, it was almost as spiky as Imp's.

"Six am... I never thought I would wake up this early again," the man sighed, pouring himself some coffee. "I told Maxi when he hired me not to expect a sunrise service from me ever. So far, he's accepted that."

Imp made a noise of agreement. Dammit, he hadn't been ready for the sneak attack of casually dressed Craig! He snuck glances at him until he was able to meet his gaze without blushing. Luckily, Craig didn't seem to notice his predicament.

They finished their coffee, and Craig suggested they go. Imp nodded and gulped down the rest of the pot then followed behind Craig as he put on his shoes and coat. Creating shoes around his socked feet (Craig had insisted looking at him made him "sympathetically cold"), he followed him out of the house.

Craig began his tour with the Community Center the next block over. It was a rather plain start, but it was the location of a lot of the bullshit that happened in the town, therefore, it was a worthy starting point. It was empty, but not locked like most people thought. Craig knew it wasn't ever locked, his times sneaking out of the house to see his friends at all hours of the day or night in his little kid days had informed him of that.

They walked around the giant gymnasium for a few minutes, Craig explaining what the building was and its purpose. Imp listened silently, his eyes scanning the place. When they returned to the front door, he made only one comment.

"This place smells like it has a lot of cult activities."

While he couldn't say he was surprised to hear this, he was caught off guard by the way that Imp could tell. "It... smells?"

"Yeah." The Hell creature nodded, gesturing around them. "I don't know what to compare it to for you. I guess the closest thing would be something burning? Or rotting meat? Specifically human? I doubt you know what that smells like that, though."

Craig was glad that of all the insane things he had lived through, other than that one time the town had pink eye zombies (well, and then later with the zombie Nazis), he hadn't really been around rotting corpse, so he could for once say he didn't know that particular smell.

"No, I don't," he finally said, glancing around the room. "Anyway, this is where a lot of town meetings are held. Either here or in front of the Mayor's office, it just depends. I remember when I was a kid, we would have meetings in here too, but I can't remember what they were about."

They didn't stay much longer, heading out and walking towards Stark's Pond. They passed the elementary school, which was still dark and empty. The time was nearing 6:30, and Craig knew no one would arrive to open it for another half hour. He pointed at it as they passed.

"This is where we're coming back to tonight," he said. Imp looked at the two-story building curiously, taking in the plainness. "I know it's not much to look at. It's not got much to offer teaching wise either though, so it all works out."

Imp smiled and nodded, catching the joking tone. They arrived at the pond, and Imp knelt down at the water's edge, a strange look on his face. Craig watched him apprehensively. Was he beginning to remember something?

He glanced around the area, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. He traced his fingers over the water, creating gentle ripples on the surface that spread quickly outwards. Imp leaned forward, staring at his reflection in the pond. He bit his lip, locking eyes with his reflection. Craig moved closer slowly, setting his hand lightly on his shoulder.

"Imp, are you okay?" he murmured, crouching beside him.

"This place... I don't know what it is, but... it feels strangely familiar. I can't say what it is about it."

"Maybe you grew up somewhere near water," Craig suggested. In his mind, he put a pin on the map, knowing this spot would be a good one to return too. Perhaps if they visited often enough, it would spark a memory. He let him take as much time as he wanted; there was no rush for them to get to anywhere anyway.

They walked around the pond for a few hours, Craig listening to the sounds of the town waking up. Most people were at work when Imp decided he was ready to move on. They headed North, taking a short walk through the woods, though Craig made sure to direct him away from Mephesto's creepy lab up on the hill. Rather, he directed them towards Skeeter's Wine Bar. There were a few places that he had no intention of taking the other to, such as the Peppermint Hippo. That just seemed like a terrible idea.

He checked the time as they walked, glad to see it was nearing nine. They walked past the bar, Jimbo's gun shop, City Wok, and the brewery, Craig explaining each as they went. Unless Imp wanted desperately to go in to a business, he was fine with continuing on. He was worried to see the interactions Imp would have, steadying himself with the reminder that he had been fine before he had spoken with Jesus, and he would be fine now. It was difficult for him to not worry about the other, for whatever reason.

Next, they turned down the road and headed towards the police station. Outside, Sergent Yates was standing by the entrance with a travel mug, looking exhausted while an older woman screamed in his face, her eyes narrowed. Her finger was an inch from his nose, clearly full of rage. Yates glanced over and saw the two. Craig hesitated, considering turning them around and walking back. Unfortunately, the woman saw Yates' gaze and whipped around to see what he was looking at. Spotting the youth pastor, her face contorted in rage.

Visibly shaking, she clenched her fists at her sides and spun on her heel, storming away from the police station. Yates sighed and waved at them before going inside. Imp looked up at Craig curiously.

"It's Firkle's mother. He was one of the ten who were in the church the other night," he explained, his hand grabbing hold of Imp's and tugging him slightly to head down the street. "I figure she knows that I had something to do with Firkle getting killed. It's whatever though, she's kind of a bitch."

The pair traveled down Main street, passing the Mayor's office and the multitude of businesses lining the road. Reaching the Photo Dojo, Craig pointed up the street at the giant building. "Over there is the movie theater and Tweek Bros. Coffee. We're going there tonight, so we're skipping it for now." They crossed into the playground, pausing for Craig to teach Imp how to play tether ball, an old favorite of his.

Imp enjoyed the game, particularly when he punched the ball back so fast that Craig was unable to dodge and was beaned in the head. They sat at the picnic tables for a while to give the youth pastor a chance to re-cooperate. When his headache passed, Craig led the way down the path, the pair arriving back on the Craig's street, though now on the other end.

"My friend Kenny lives over there," he said, gesturing over the railroad tracks behind them. "You'll meet him tonight, he's going to help us get into the school."

"Why do you want us to get into the school so badly?" Imp asked, admittedly confused by his persistence.

Craig sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Because it might help you remember something," he said. "I don't know why I didn't tell you this last night, and I'm sorry if this makes you angry at me, but Jesus told me that..." He paused, taking a breath before finishing, "He told me you're from South Park."

A heavy silence fell between them, Imp's eyes widening at the news. For a long time, he didn't speak, and Craig worried that he'd made Imp so mad that he would leave. He really, really didn't want that. He couldn't explain the intense fear that came over him at the thought, but it sure was there.

Finally, Imp put his hands on his hips, kicking at a rock by his foot. "It's stupid that you didn't say anything," he agreed. "But I suppose we both had a lot to think about yesterday. Some details may slip through the cracks." While he wanted to be angry with Craig for this, he felt he couldn't actually be, considering his own secret. Though, maybe Craig would recognize the garment and be able to tell him why it was special now. ...maybe in a day or two. He still wasn't comfortable with letting him know about his only possessions.

It was around lunch time, and Craig led the way back to the house. His father and sister were gone, and he sighed gladly. Imp went upstairs, checking on his things, then remained to play a bit with Stripe. He had grown immensely fond of the tiny animal over the past few days. The 'wheeking' as Craig had called it was cute, and it never failed to make him smile.

When he returned downstairs, Craig had made them both sandwiches along with a new pot of coffee. Imp gladly accepted a mug, taking a few gulps of the scorching liquid. Craig winced slightly as he watched, but he figured Imp was at least somewhat fire proof, so it likely didn't hurt him as much as his brain was insisting it did.

The pair ate together before heading back out into the town around one o'clock. Craig decided not to take Imp to the U-Stor-It or the mess of construction around the area. It was a major pain in the ass to try and navigate through, so it was better to just avoid it. They returned to the pond, seeing as Imp had had such a strange reaction to it before.

Craig sat on a rock, leaning back on his arms, watching him traverse the area. What was going through his head, he wondered? Normally, he would have had no problem with straight out asking, but in the moment, it felt somehow inappropriate. If Imp wanted him to know, he would tell him, and it would be rude of him to pry.

They remained at the pond until the sun began to sink, returning to the Tucker residence. Tricia and Thomas greeted them, grinning at Imp in a knowing way that made Craig suspicious. He shrugged it off and went upstairs to fill Stripe's water and food. The moment he was gone, Tricia pounced on Imp.

"Misty!" she cooed excitedly. "What did you and Craig do all day?"

"He was showing me around the town," he answered, wriggling away.

"Where did he take you?" the girl demanded, releasing him. Her foot tapped impatiently on the ground, and Imp could tell Thomas was listening to them though he was pretending not to care.

"He took me everywhere," he huffed. What, was he supposed to remember the exact name of every single place?

Thomas surveyed him, an eyebrow peaked. "Really? Well, uh, did you have fun?"

Imp shot him a confused look, slightly annoyed by how often the day had put him in this state. "Yeah, I guess so? We were at the pond for a really long time. I liked looking at the water."

The father and daughter glanced at each other before Tricia ventured, "Did you go anywhere that seemed to make Craig a little uncomfortable?"

"We walked by the police place," he said, settling onto the couch. "That wasn't great because some crazy bitch was screaming at a dude outside, and when she saw us she got even angrier and left. Craig didn't seem to like that too much."

The two sighed, realizing that Imp was not understanding what they were asking. "Misty, did Craig take you to a place called Raisins?" Tricia asked. "They're past Main street, close to the Chinese restaurant?"

Imp tilted his head. "No? What's that?" The relief on their faces annoyed him, and it was only Craig returning downstairs that kept him from snapping at them. The pair had been a bit worried, Imp seemed so sweet and innocent, they had been afraid he would be upset by going to places like that. They didn't think Craig would have taken him there, but who knew what the other was thinking.

They ate dinner, hung out all together a while, then retired to their rooms. When it was getting close to midnight, Craig led the way out of the house towards the school, Imp trudging along behind him.

Reaching the yellow building near the edge of town, they found the front door slightly ajar.

"I bet Kenny is already inside," Craig murmured. "It's pretty cold tonight." Entering the front area of the school, Craig was glad for lights that didn't ever fully turn off, making it so there was enough light to see by at all times. Imp wandered towards the display case to the side, investigating the trophies housed there.

"I'm going to see if he's in the bathroom or something, I'll be right back," he called softly. Imp nodded to show he'd heard and Craig headed up the steps and down the hall.

Shortly after, Imp heard something move in one of the rooms nearby. He turned as a man opened a door at the far end of the room and step out, his arms filled with supplies. He had messy blonde hair like Imp's, but darker, and strikingly blue eyes. Half his face was obscured by an orange bandana tied around his nose and mouth. The man looked up and they stared at each other in surprise.

Imp didn't know why, but the man's eyes shot wide, and everything he held slipped from his grasp, crashing to the ground.

"T... Tweek...?"