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Before his sudden arrival, there hadn’t been a single recorded act of violence in over 18 years; not since a security guard was knocked to the ground (albeit inadvertently) during a theft in The Blueprint Chamber of City Hall.

Whatever his advent brought, however he made the wind go wrong, all the harmony of the city was gone in an instant. Suddenly it seems that these citizens can’t punch each other fast or hard enough!

A local produce manager is chased into the grocery store parking lot and nearly lynched for raising the price of bulk celery by two cents; a regular yearly increase that had seemingly always gone unnoticed.

Old women trip children with their canes; young men throw their shoes at unattractive women; policemen are ambushed with snowballs kept through the winter in basement freezers at a rate previously employed only in active combat zones, worlds away.

Christ, even innocent dogs were having their ears boxed by the small but tenacious homeless dwarf population.

While the city’s previous Black Market had thrived almost exclusively on bootleg phone conversations (including the wildly popular “The Complete Forgiving Steve” which shed more light on the human condition than one thousand cameras pointed at the exits of one thousand strip clubs), it has now been replaced by back-alley maximum strength aspirin peddlers, by-the-car-trunk-novelty-football-helmet-merchants and implausible head trauma bandage dealers.

He is oblivious to the carnage all around him as he tries to not hum along to the song transmitting directly into his hearing aid:

“Here’s where the commercial would be,
If you were listening to the radio or watching TV.”