He was the strange type, one of those you’d be suspicious of. He’d stand out in a crowd and was quite easily spotted. He wore a coat during the day and a hat and sunglasses inside. His job was a dark one, spending most of his days in the alleyways of the downtown. His best and only friend lay inside his coat, a bit above his heart, in a pocket invisible to others. Now, this friend was of the persuasive type. This friend was a bit short on words, but when he did speak, it was a powerful blast. People had been able to outspeak the man, but never did anyone outspeak his friend.