Spit and Sawdust

Tazr was worried, things around the neighbourhood had seemed subdued. Some of the gangs had disappeared from their usual haunts and money was beginning to dry up.

He crossed the common passed the unused concrete play area he'd spent so much time learning the ropes as a kid. He flicked his butt into the grass and stolled around the smashed up car and turned the corner into the road which housed the local youth club.

A finger whistle blew from behind him, as he turned he slammed hard into something and fell backwards. Adjusting his cap he looked up. There in front of him stood a tall broad kid in his late teens. Tazr probably wouldn't have thought anything of it other that he appeared to be made of solid wood....

Someone grabbed him span him around, pushed him flat onto the floor and put him in an arm lock. Tazr spat the dirt sticking to his lips out. His hands crackled with electrical charge. He just needed to make contact with this fucker and he'd be away.

"No such luck, boy. We know whatchya got, boy."

A face leant closer to Tazr's face, a piercing toxic smell entered his nosrils and his captor spoke again.

"We been told to bring you in, boy. We've heard you got skills, boy. He don't seem much to me. Does he seem much to you Acorn?"

Tazr heard a grunt. His captor began clearing his nose and throat, the worrying sound of someone preparing a serious amount of gob.

...Flob....

the floor hissed and bubbled next to Tazr's head where it landed.

"Suppose we'd better move, the Guv was expecting us and hour ago."

Tazr knew he was in deep shit.