Jean wakes up in a daze as sirens blare past the alley in which he passed out in. His long jet black hair tangled from the pavement of downtown L.A. He looks to his right and see's a homeless man sleeping under two pieces of cardboard and old newspapers. Jean see's a dumpster about 15 feet in front of him he stands up and feels a sharp-hot stab in his side he looks down, his side is covered in blood. He looks down and sees a shard of glass in his side. As Jean reaches down, a hot flash comes over him as he removes the 4 inch shard of glass from his abdomen.
Limping over to the dumpster the smell of rubber and rotting waste fills his nose. He opens the huge metal lid without much resistance and rummages around and tries not to puke from the repulsive smell. "How the hell do these bums do this daily?" Jean wearily asks himself. He pulls out a half eaten bag of chips and a broken broom handle from the dumpster.
Leisurely eating his chips, picking out the occasional maggot or other non chip item, he walks towards the bum. He places his chip bag down and raises the broom handle high ready to strike the defenseless man when the scent of decaying flesh reaches his nose. "So that's where that smell was coming from aye'?," he says as he puts the broom handle down and begins to search the man's pocket. Jean then heard the sirens coming his way so he stuffed what he found in the man's pocket took his broom handle and ran.
After tugging on many 'back-alley' doors trying to escape his pursuers, he ducked into a building that had an accidentally unlocked back door. Locking it behind him he tiredly slid down the reddish brown metal door, only a faint moon light showing through an upper window shed light into the small building. Jean emptied what treasures he found from the bums pocket onto the floor where he rested. He counted out $17.22, a 12 inch rusty piece of metal wire that he decided he could keep and find a use for later on, and a lot thread, rocks, a broken match and the butt of a cigarette.
Sitting there for about an hour and a half Jean presumed it was safe to look around through this store. It wasn't very big and didn't have any visible cameras so he decided to look around, he eventually stumbled upon a washroom. Looking through it he found some anti bacterial soap and running water. He cleaned off his wound and washed his hands and face, combing his hair the best he could with his four fingers.
Jean searched the rest of the store and found racks of clothes. He came to the conclusion he was in some sort of thrift store, fumbling through the clothes he put on a new, plain gray shirt and black baggy jeans. He tried to open the cash register but , however, stopped realizing it would make too much noise, and with the cops right outside in the alley he didn't want to take that chance.
Before leaving he made sure the cops weren't outside and then he noticed a clock hanging to a wall. "1:02," he murmured to himself, "I thought these pigs would be eating donuts and banging hookers at this time. Oh well" He sighed and left through the front door of the building.
Right when he stepped outside a blaring light stopped him in his tracks. To the right he saw the red and blue flashes of the cops. To his left the blaring headlights of a cop car kept him from running. Guns drawn the one cop from each car came out using their door frame for cover the skinny blond haired cop yells at Jean, "Jean Cromway! Put your hands behind your head and lay face down on the ground! Now!"
