The light began to wane in the warehouse, and a coweled form crept forward in the darkened rafters. It's tied to a hidden yet herculean rope, stretched across shrunken wooden beams, held darkly together by the stained-in color of 100 years of train labor. She had come to realize that most perfect of balances that nature can offer, and it is why she was here.
V swooped down out of the rafters. Below, a young man clung, acting out the fantacies of a lifetime across a barren wall. He is spider man. He is marked. But he is not V's target. She crashes to Earth a few feet away and alites with a companion, whow as watching below. Into the rafters she takes him, slapping him with a dark black stamp marked "Smart & Final."
Religion is a book. Life is a brand. A light shown down upon the mark, and he was lifted up into the heavens by that skyward portal beam. And V was unseen, into the bushes, off on the highway, and onto the next target.
Is it really any different than a game show. When I was young, we went ferreting our way through toobs for videogames, or wrestling in rancid pickle brine for dollar bills.
At least these kids are in shape.