Welcome, my friends, to the world right outside your window.
The Street is not like most abysses. You can walk in one end and out the other every day of your life, no harm no foul. Only when you begin to peel back the asphalt do things start to go awry... Only when you leap into its dark underbelly do you risk severing your moors to the sidewalk. Thirty feet wide but infinitely deep, it could swallow you whole and the people above wouldn't be any the wiser. Trapped in the shadows for the rest of your days, you'd be...
The Street is black.
The Street is beautiful.
The Street knows when you're afraid, and it'll eat you alive if you so much as betray a tremble.
But you'll come back. You'll always come back, because that's just your way. Your courage is perfect, your muscles are taut, and your cock is as hard as steel. This is the path you've chosen. You know you're ready to walk with the giants.
P I T L A N DThe morning is warm and sticky in the census-designated, unincorporated community of Brownville, New Jersey. Three figures, one short, one stout, and one stringy, converge in the grassy backyard of a decaying suburban hovel. The fenced-off court might as well be a jungle; only a month removed from winter, and the weeds have already grown so formidable that they seem to be making a gambit for the surrounding properties. It's as if Mother Nature herself has found a pinhole in civilization's armor and is trying to reclaim the Earth by forcing its entire mass through that tiny chink. Sean Tovin, the most minuscule of the three men, twirls his rainbow-colored afro wig in trepidation of the daunting task ahead.
Sean Tovin: Jesus Christ, this place is a shithole. The black-and-white mosquitos are already out here, and it isn't even Summer yet. Do you even think we'll find anything?
"Ruby" Rick Freeman, his eyes beady from the voluminous blubber attached to his face, leers down at his midgetesque companion with a look of annoyance. As he does so, droplets of sweat from his greasy chocolate flesh fly off and splatter across the shaggy chesthairs popping out of Tovin's blue singlet. The short man doesn't even betray a gag from this saltine shower. Getting rained on is par for the course when you're rolling with Fat Ricky.
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: Of course we'll find somethin'. There's no way Jackson could lay on someone for THAT long without fundamentally changing the surrounding area, at least in some small part. What do you see, Baobby?
Both Tovin and Freeman have to look up when they're talking to Baob Xishund. Measuring in at seven feet flat, the waify Asian is the fellow best suited to peer over the forest of grass to see if what they're looking for is really here.
Baob Xishund: I see clearing. Follow.
Using his rangy, Groot-like limbs, the suspender clad giant begins plowing down walls of tick laden plantlife so his comrades can get through. As Xishund cuts down the grass like a farmer reaping wheat, seemingly infinite armadas of tiger mosquitos rise from the pits of the jungle and attempt to devour the eyes and nostrils of their intruders. For several moments, the trio is forced to awkwardly plod along through this until...
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: Holy ****!
The oily butterball has to shove Tovin back when Xishund pulls apart the final tangle of weeds and unveils what he had seen over the grass. There, before his very eyes, is a barren, human-shaped indentation in the dirt... The scar on the Earth left by a clash of Gods over a year ago. "Ruby" Rick Freeman perspires even more profusely than normal as he gazes upon this marvel of nature. Sean Tovin, meanwhile, agitatedly climbs up off of the ground and punches his girthy, black companion in the shin.
Sean Tovin: The **** you knock me down for?
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: I didn't want you to walk into it... Bad things have been known to happen to people who do that.
Sean Tovin: The **** you talkin- Oh my God!
Tovin's breath is sapped from his body the second he lays eyes on the sight. Suddenly unmindful of the mosquitos, the trio just gazes upon the impression for several moments in stunned silence. Although none of these peculiar individuals would be able to articulate it, the patch of ground seems to have some kind of supernatural aura to it... Like a singularity glued to one point in space. It's hypnotic as well as frightening, and none of the three even risks waving a hand above the dent.
Sean Tovin: I... I still can't believe Germany Reyes lasted as long as he did.
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: I bet I would just wither in minutes if Jackson ever decided to put the lay on me.
Sean Tovin: It's amazing how that fight is already apart of our lore. ****, the tournament isn't even over yet!
Xishund shiftily glances from side to side.
Baob Xishund: ...You know, I hear Reyes still alive.
Tovin hocks a loogie in the dirt.
Sean Tovin: You're talking bullshit again, Baob.
Baob Xishund: It true! I hear Reyes leader of Camden Triads, now!
Both Tovin and Freeman look up at Xishund like he's an imbecile. It's true that the colossal Chinaman isn't too bright, but right now he's smart enough to know that he should shut up.
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: ... Well, the only thing I'VE heard in regards to the Triads as of late is that they're planning on launching an invasion into PitFighter territory. Some cab driver up in Fair Lawn told me. If that happens, we might get recruited for the war... And finally be made real members!
Tovin rolls his eyes. "Here comes another Ralph Kramden scheme," he thinks.
Sean Tovin: Yeah... Maybe.
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: I mean, just think about it! We could be heroes! Baobby could totally pass as a Triad and get into one of their meetings! He could blow an entire hive of them out of the water when they least expect it!
Xishund spatters jubilantly.
Baob Xishund: Yup! Me have two grenades back in truck. Me get inside the system and blow bad guys to smithereens!
Freeman and Xishund smile ecstatically at this fantastical notion. The prospect of being real PitFighters is so exciting to them that the thought alone sends a tingling sensation straight to their genitals. They look down at Tovin to see if their minuscule companion is on board, only to be met with a dour glare.
Sean Tovin: Yes, I'm sure you'll be able to infiltrate the Triads fairly easily, Baob. There are so many seven-foot-tall Asians walking around that you'll just slip in like one of the pack.
The zeal rapidly deflates from the two behemoths as they begin contemplating this reality. Tovin, apparently just as frustrated as he is doubtful, continues to speak.
Sean Tovin: I mean, this is all assuming we even get recruited for the war anyway. What the **** would Frazier want with a group of fucks like us? What use could he possibly have for a a retarded skeleton, an asthmatic lardass, and an alcoholic midget?
The three go silent once again. There seems to be more mosquitos than ever out now, and they're all aiming to attack the eyes and nose like before. It's as if someone aimed a Misery Ray at the trio and turned the dial to Turbo. Even the dent, as glorious as it is, suddenly seems to have lost its euphoric effect on the group.
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: ... You know, we're the first fans to discover this place. Do you think that will give us any standing in the comm-
Sean Tovin: No. They'll just think we're nerds.
"Ruby" Rick Freeman: ... C'mon, guys. Let's go dojo storm some ***** karate school.
The bizarre threesome plods out of the bug-ravaged yard as quickly as they can. Several elderly men strolling down the road leer confusedly as them as they come through the gate and pile into an ice cream truck parked in front of the dilapidated house. None of the senile coots has time to process what they're seeing, however, before the trio has set off down the road to begin their adventure.
I'm not trying to create art, I'm transcribing events from a different universe.
Originally Posted by W. Rabbit
Is Pitland a place to take screaming children to show them creepy looking animatronics?