Heres another character intro.  I'm sure you'll guess where this is going.
I'm still hacking on the same logo that takes an hour to render, so it 
looks like I'll get some more done today.  Again, C&C please!  Finaly this 
one's for Mike Loader, thanks for replying.  Hope you like it...

Matthew Trotter, Render, Render, Render . . .



The Kid
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                          Ain't got no money
                          Ain't got no home
                          Gotta find me a bim to 
                              live with tonight
                                  -Dangerous Toys
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   He was the type of person who other guys always referred to as the 
kid.  He was the type who didn't normally get into fights, because people 
thought he was a mama's boy.  He was the type who lived off of women.  
Sometimes he was a mistress, some times just a live in lover.  He was 
just that type.  He was the type you'd only see between girlfriends.  He 
was the type everyone made fun of for being on a leash.  He was the one 
everyone wanted to be, so they could live the good life, like him.  He was 
currently between girlfriends, which meant he was looking for a job.
   He knew where to go too, Miuna at the employment agency.  She was a 
constant friend, and could always find him work, and didn't mind providing 
a warm bed if he'd help out with her bills.  It looked like he'd be doing 
some more secretarial work again.
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   She saw him come sauntering into the office, like a cat slinking into 
a comfortable sun beam.  He looked the same as ever, his long black hair in a 
pony tail.  He was wearing the tanktop and tattered jeans that she had 
told him turned her on.  She hated it when he looked like, it made her 
want to forgive him on the spot.  It almost always worked, and when that 
didn't all he had to do was catch her gaze and talk softly . . . god his 
voice made her want to leave work early....and those eyes, like chips of 
sapphire . . .
   No, this time she was going to get him back.  This time she'd let him 
see how it felt. . . who did she think she was kidding . . . she'd take 
him back in a second...but he did need a job . . . didn't he. . . well 
what might be suitable employment for a dirty rat like him?  Miuna 
smiled, there was a nice opening at the sewage treatment plant...no she 
didn't want him coming home smelling like crap.  Maybe some nice heavy 
labor, a nice sweaty man could be erotic . . . then again most heavy 
labor was kind of dangerous...especially with the cheep boomers they were 
mass marketing theses days.  Ah, waste management . . . there was a job 
for him...garbage man.
   "Hello, Miuna.  Your looking  .  . . goood."
   She swallowed, he was starting off with that deep, after lovemaking 
voice . . .
   "Looks like I need a job.  And a place to live . . . know of any one 
who would like to take care of a poor boy like me?"
   "You don't have to lay it on so thick.  I forgive you already."
   "What makes you think I was trying to get forgiven?"
   "Your about as transparent as glass.  I already have a job all picked out."
   "That's great, when do I begin?"
   Miuna smiled and looked down again, "Let's see...why you can start any 
time at all.  Report to 24838 Onatawa St."
   "Public service I see."
   "That's right, I'll call ahead, they'll be expecting you."
   "Thanks, Miuna  . . . and I'll see you tonight."
   "I'll be waiting."
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   If you "worked" of Onatawa St. you were a public servant.  Most of the 
people who had offices listed on Onatawa drove around the city in trash 
trucks, or mail trucks, or cop cars, or walked down the highway.  The kid 
wasn't worried, Miuna always set him up with the easy stuff.  He'd 
probably be shuffling paper in a mail room, or answering phones in an 
office.  It didn't much matter, it would bring in a little cash, and give 
him a new stalking ground.  
   He stretched as he walked, it felt good to be out on the streets 
again.  There was only so much sitting around the house in silk boxers 
and sleeping till noon that a guy could stand before it got tiresome.  
You just had to get the feel of the street back in your body . . . then 
you'd be more than happy to snuggle back into those silk boxers and sleep 
late.. .
   24838 Onatawa was a short squat brick building.  It looked ugly and 
dingy.  Not really his scene, but you did what you had to . . .  The kid 
walked into the building wondering what kind of dungeon its mail room 
might prove to be...probably look like one on those school bathrooms done 
in bad fluorescent.  It wasn't hard to pick out the receptionist, she was 
the one behind the thick safety glass wall . . . it was that kind of 
office.
   "Excuse me."
   The secretary looked up from Gossip Weekly magazine.
   "I was referred over here by the Dosoi Employment Agency."
   "Oh, your the one Miuna sent.  Just a minute."  She then picked up a 
phone.  "Hey Floyd, the new kid's here.  Yeah, yeah, no, yeah," she then 
took off her shoe and looked into it, "six, yeah, yeah, yeah ok.  Your 
with the old man, go through the door, and take the hall to the right, go 
down the stairs and you'll be in bay eighteen."
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   Bay 18 was in a garage, and the only thing in bay 18 was a garbage 
truck and an old man.  The old guy was sitting on the bumper smoking a big 
smelly cigar and bitching to the would in general.  He had on some nasty 
looking faded camo pants, a pair of mud stomping combat boots, and a grey
sweat stained t-shirt.  His hair was short cut and grey.  he looked like a  
piece of beefjerky.  Well, a militant piece of beefjerky...
   "Hey!  Ol . . ."
   "You th' kid?"
   "What?"
   "You what they sent?  Damn shame gotta teach some newbie th' ropes."
   "Look I think there's been a mix up at the employment agency."
   "Git in th' truck kid.  Got work to do you-n-me.  Gotta run th' 
special 'cause I gotta wait on you."
   "Look I think there's been . . "
   "Shut up!  Git in or I gotta kick you ass?"
   "shit"