Nicktoons Noir

Turner - Chapter 1.1

I've never thought of myself as someone to make a drastic change in this world. I am a single person amongst billions of other people, tell me, what about me is so special now? I've done my time on The Stream, things was starting to get quite fucking ridiculous anyways. First a baby, then a dog, then I had to share my god parents? I told the producers I was sick of it. They were just beating a dead horse at this point.

A lot has changed about Dimmsdale since the start of my career. This was no longer the happy go lucky city where every day seems like it regurgitated happiness. No, it hasn't been like that for a while. What was shown to the audience was just a lot of reused footage and CGI. Dimmsdale has been bad for quite a while now but nobody would believe you if you were to tell them about what goes on here. Drugs, guns, prostitution, etc. they would never bring this to light and lose the millions of dollars they were making from the show. Now, every day just seems to be one rainy day after another. Hell, I can't even remember the last time we had a sunny day here.

There was always some kind of tranquility with the sound of rain smacking against the roof of your car. Just thinking about rain is mind provoking, a single droplet does no damage but get millions of them together and you have a natural disaster on your hands. I guess that's what they mean by, "There's strength in numbers." I adjust my seat back from its erect positioning as it's beginning to feel a bit sore from siting in the same position from hours on end.

I don't know how Helga does it. We've been in the same spot since this morning watching the same diner for hours and nothing. We've gotten tip from a "reliable" source that says a gun deal was supposed to go down tonight. Oh, I use the word reliable very sarcastically only because it came from that goof Sheen Estevez. Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy Sheen as an individual but I wouldn't trust that man with peanut butter and jelly and expect him to come up with a sandwich.

Helga continues to keep her eyes peeled at the diner expecting for something big to happen at any given moment. She could at least relax a little, seeing her like that makes me feel tense even when my seat is in its optimal comfort position. She reaches inside of her khaki trench coat and grabs a new pack of cigarettes undoing the plastic covering around it before popping it open and taking one out. She reaches out her hand, still gripping the cigarette box, toward me offering me a smoke.

A) I accept the cigarette from her.
B) I decline because I'm trying to quit.
C) I ignore her and roll crack the window a bit.