“Come on Baskin! You gotta do it!” “No fockin’ way! ‘Av you gone batty??” the little boy shouted his objections to his companions, who all had gathered at the mouth of the alleyway for the big day. Julius sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration as Janith came forward to speak “Baskin, it’s the Law! Everyone had to do it at some point” she explained, trying to get him to understand, though he wasn’t having it. The Law wasn’t really understood by anyone though It was likely created by some guy or girl who lived in some alleyway in some far gone time before any of us were born. But regardless of that being the hypothesized cause, everyone respected the Law and everybody knew it. Why didn’t we leave the alley at night? Because it was the Law. Why did we respect the territories of other gangs? Because it was the Law. Why did new members of a gang prove themselves to their gangmates to gain admittance? Because it was the Law. Baskin, of course, was new to this concept, he didn’t quite get why they were pestering him to prove his worth to any of them. Were they not the ones who chose, their own survival be damned, to take him in? If he indeed wasn’t worth it couldn’t they have just thrown him back into the street? It certainly was beyond his own comprehension. “Look-” said Julius, as finally came down from his pillar of irritation. “All you’ve gotta do is show us that you’re made of tough stuff Baskin! You can’t just be the Lookout forever, you’ve gotta earn your place!” His explanation prompted a huff from their younger companion, who aimed a finger square at Julius’s face and piped up. “I already earned my place just fine! You’d all be dead or worse iffin’ I didn’t do my job good!” “Argh!” Julius bashed his head onto the brick siding of the alley wall in frustration, Janith moving over to put a soothing hand over his shoulder and leaning over to whisper something into his ear, which seemed to calm him down though not by very much. The little boy beside them just rolled his eyes and turned to stare out of the alley entrance, watching the people as they walked by on the road, entered shops, speaking to one another at small cafe tables sipping on drinks of an indeterminate origin. Suddenly an idea sparked into his little brain, as they saw the colorful and absurdly expensive garb of a nobleman streak across his vision and come to a stop next to the cafe. He looked behind him at Julius and Janith, the two of them now having a short silent bicker about something which he couldn’t hear, likely about Baskin, but it was hardly the time to care. There was work to be done. Baskin fixed his flat-cap and quickly slunked out of the alley and into the crowd of walking people, snaking his way through all the moving legs until the cafe was just within spitting distance. In his mind he knew what he was fixing to do, get the noble to cough up some pocket change and let that be that. Such a simple task was only overshadowed by the massive caveat that noble folk were stingy rotten bastards, who’d just as soon spit in your face then give you a coin for a stamp. Though fact alone, however, made the idea all the more appealing. It was simple and straightforward, put on a good act and get paid. After making a quick exit from the road and onto the sidewalk of the cafe, the little boy mustered up all the sappy child energy they could and lightly tugged on the fine silks of the noble’s garments. Here it goes Let the curtain roll back Lets get put on a sh- “Hm? Eck!!” the Nobleman recoiled in shock and awe just as soon as they felt the slightest tug. Before Baskin could even get a word in, the Nobleman was screaming like a banshee looking at his garments “These silks were imported!!” He shouted, “How dare you even think about laying your dirty little MITTS upon it!” Baskin recoiled in shock, not expecting to be blasted with such an amount of visceral hatred as Nobleman turned fully to look the little boy dead in the eyes while the people around them turned to see what had prompted this sudden public outburst. The Nobleman continued his verbal tirade. “You disgusting stain! I’ve got good authority to shove my sword through your stomach and rid the world of your filth! You worthless urchin! You stupid child!!” The crowd around the two seemed to grow restless as well, looking down at Baskin with almost the same amount of hatred and judgment as the Nobleman. Why wouldn’t they? It only made sense to stand by the one who held near limitless social standing and who might grant them favor afterwards like they were his loyal soldiers joining in the fight to combat little street boys from accidentally staining high-grade clothing items. Baskin was left to just take it, he could say anything to defend himself as it would only be shot down immediately by an uncaring audience. He felt like crying, it was too much to bear, The Nobleman was asking the crowd for a sword, We should be running now We should be running! Stop! Wait a second.. Who was this man before the boy? Was this a sophisticated man of high society? Did raising to the rank of such social grace equate to screaming in public like a mad man whenever something doesn’t go their way? Any other gentlemen, who might be a couple dollars short of his next month’s rent, would have likely given the kid a coin and maybe the tip of a hat or some other form of friendly gesture, before walking off and continuing on his way. But not so the Nobleman, who seemed to otherwise want to go ballistic and splatter a poor lad’s insides across the cobblestone street for costing him maybe a couple coins worth of cleaning bills. In the end who was the real child? And who would be the one crying today? Upon this realization, Baskin’s face wiped away the look of shock to replace it for one of contempt, then as he finally was regaining his footing and the Nobleman was turning from the crowd after acquiring a blade, the little urchin quickly grabbed a loose cobble chunk from the ground next to him and, with all his might, slung it directly into the crotch of the Nobleman and bringing him down to the ground in a mess of anguish and surprise. “AAAH!! F-Fuck!” the Nobleman cried, gripping his midsection as the crowd all gathered in to help them, screaming for a doctor or anyone that knew where the nearest clinic was, forgetting all about the boy. Baskin stood silently there for a moment, taking it all in before he started back for the alleyway, managing to catch a small pool of blood forming below the Nobleman just before he slicked back across the street and into the entrance. Upon his return, he was met by his companions, who had apparently finished their small calming session and were now looking out of the alley to the crowd across the street. “Baskin what the hell did you do?” Janith asked as the little urchin slipped in and stood next to them. “I-...I hit em” he said, causing Janith to frown and Julius to look at Baskin in disbelief “You hit em? That stiff? You hit that Noble stiff?!” This prompted a quick nod from Baskin, which surprisingly enough, led to a hearty laugh from Julius “Haha!! Holy shit! You did that?! Ha, did you hear that, Janith!?” Janith nodded and their frown turned to a smile, reaching over and fluffing up Baskin’s dirty hair “I believe I did! And I do believe they’ve earned their place.” Baskin’s face pulled into a smile, and excitedly leapt up to pull his friends, now his new family, into a hug.
