Ch1

THE JANITOR'S CLOSET smells like barf and Pine-Sol. But hopefully we won't be hiding in here for toolong. There's also not much room in here cuz neither me, or Skunk want to get anywhere near that myterious looking pile of rags. Oh, and did i mention Skunk's legs are aproximately 4 feet tall?  Yea, it's a bit cramped in here! "You just HAD to sock him in the mouth! If it weren't for you we wouldn't be stuck in this hell hole!" "Hey!" Skunk says with a glaze of murder over his eyes. "Quit your pissin or else they'll hear us." I settle back into the coner of the closet. "Why'd you do it though Skunk? This is the 5th time this month we've had to run from" the skins!" He snorts and crosses his arms" Its nothing you'd understand.." My eyes widen, and i almost belived he was pushing me away until he givesme those cat eyes and says "Y'know i'm just screwin' with ya Gareth!" We both share a grin, the kind of grin that only best frineds know how to tie up their mouths with. "Man, I would totally punch you if this mop wasn'tin the way of my arm." I say with a laugh. "Ha! I'll take that as a promise.. gosh running away from thugs sure makes a guy tired!" Skunk says as he starts to move his leg. "No, oh god no don't do it man!" I yell, but it's too late. Hes already got his legs stretchedout like he's at thestarting line of the starting line of the New York Marathon, making sure to dig his feet into my stomach while he's at it. "Ha, cut it out jackass!" I yell between giggles. Yeah I giggle. You would too if your stomach was as vulnerable as mine! "But seriously though dude, why'd you punch the guy?" Skunk pull back his leg and sighs, "Well you know as well as anybody how the Skins are, there as racist as a Nazi, KKK love child." He looks down at the linoleum lined floor, as if trying to see whether his infernal Majesty has aleady reserved seats in hell for these butt heads. "Well while they were lurking the courtyard, they caught sight of me and decided to mess." Skunk's brow furrowed into millions of knots, each one twisted mithpure, unadulterated hate. "So one turn to the otherand says, 'Heylook at the sand nig over there!' " Skunk's hands start quivering " 'Let's show him that the Skins don't take kindly to terrorists!' " By this point his voice has raised four thousand decibels. "Skunk..." i say softly as i lean forward to hold his shoulder, but then he becomes aware of how loud he was talking, and leaned back, seeming almost embarassed. "Long story short- they tried cutting my hair off, so i gave the guy holding the scissors a new smile." He hung his head in between his knees, "Next time I'll find somewhere for us to go that doesn't smell like barf, I promise."