what {lovely} teeth you have! [.alice]

[.alex]

K•C

[/b][/color][/size]

Out of all the concepts he struggled to grasp, the one of the modern man puzzled him the most. Why did they always swear up and down they would pay him back? Why did they always lie? The beast despised liars, mostly because they just got his hopes up. Time and time again he would tell himself that they would pay him back this time; it almost never turned out that way. There had been some that had been truhful, but they did more bad to him rather than good. They only strengthened his trust in the modern man, which could only lea to him falling further down when the next loan was not paid back. He very confused by man, not to mention women.

There had been some women during his time in the fair that had tried to reach him. They had told him that they didn't care about his scales or his claws. They had sworn they could look past it. He knew better than that now. There were girls that were trying to attract attention; there were girls that were just mooching off of the measly pay he was getting. Then there were girls that were even attracted to his malformed body. He found them the most frightening. The one thing these ladies all had in common? Their lies stung his heart twice as bad as a man's. Women were venom to him. As far as he was concerned, they were only good for a midnight snack.

The creature did not know the name of the man he was chasing--only his scent. As a slight breeze passed by, he tugged the ends of the trench coat closer together. He hated chills; they were especially bad after a long swim. His mammoth of a tail would be painfully obvious during the day. Luckily for him, it was a very shadowy night. He heard a few gunshots. The beast carried on normally; he was very used to guns by this time. Anger bubbled inside the creature; how dare that ass lie! Croc lumbered off quickly. He had his own business to attend to--a late night dinner with a client.

The scent grew stronger and stronger. His mouth began to water; he could just taste it on his tongue! He would have begged the smell to stop teasing his nose if he could. Grinding his teeth together briefly, Croc began to move as an animal would. He used all four limbs, clawing his way through the dim alleys. He didn't know what he was more eager for, getting his damn money back or eating. Every move produced a loud thud that echoed through the East Side. Would he have his meal there or to-go? He couldn't decide just yet. That was when he smelled something most peculiar. The scent danced around his nostrils; he started to wince in response.

Killer Croc was curious.

He wanted to know just what this scent was, and who was making it. The beast snickered to himself. Maybe a dessert he could save for later? He corrected his slumped posture, pulling his upper half away from the ground. What a very...interesting scent it was. It then became enamoured with the one he was pursuing. The creature huffed; it would be rude to start on dessert before finishing his dinner. That was what Mama had always told him.

"Hrrrrr..." he growled to himself, clenching his massive fists.

He craned his head slightly, twisting his expression until it looked like his eyes were going to pop out. The knew the scent was getting closer. He wondered what idiot would fall into his hands again. There was a small source of light behind him. It only illuminated his outline; even that was enough to startle someone. He hoped they would run; a good chase was always enjoyable. As the smell drew nearer, he could only wonder about one thing. Were they as curious as he was? [/center]

[mary]

Alice hadn't noticed the way that the sun slowly set before them, nor had she particularly noticed when the man that she had been conversing with rose unsteadily to start a blaze in a metal can, but Alice had noticed as the number of gunshots began to climb. The Narrows had never been particularly abashed about offing somebody during the day, no- but it was at night when there was screaming to accompany the shots. It was the drunken husband who stumbled home to find his wife packing, it was the woman the was just trying to make her headache go away, there was a sense of hopelessness that drifted over the East End when the sun went down that always struck Alice. Turning her head, she sighed heavily as she looked to the ill-dressed man next to her. "You know, Billy.." She said, wistfully. "I used to believe that if it rained hard enough, all the bad things, all the filth in the world would be washed away.." A grunt was his only reply as he lifted a paper-bag clad bottle to his lips. "I know it was silly." She laughed, smiling sadly as a few more men, hunched in their stature- meekly edged towards the fire. Nobody wanted to be alone in the dark. It was better to sit with strangers than alone. Alice enjoyed Billy's company, sometimes she could find him, sometimes she didn't. But she always found herself learning something new about herself. He was an incredibly good listener.

It was only after several figures began patrolling the street for any unfortunate, spare for the homeless men. They had nothing to offer. No wallet to steal, nothing to beat out of them. They were husks that withered away in Gotham's gutters. Alice knew the routine, as soon as she saw them- she made sure to leave before they saw her. She preferred the back alleys, contrary to popular belief- they were rarely inhabited by anybody. In the Narrows, nobody lingered, except- perhaps, Alice Fitch. There is a dull 'thunk'ing noise, and she can't help but ponder sadly if the mafia is burying another middle-class family man that didn't pay. But somehow, it sounds less like shovels hitting the ground, and more like something distinctly...fleshy.

A loud noise, closer this time, and the Fitch woman stiffened- cocking her head to better triangulate the source. For a brief moment, her eyes flicker to a way that leads to the main street- but this instinct is dismissed. No, there is a deeper desire in Alice. She needs to know what else prowls the night beyond The Batman. Walking, her footsteps are firmly planted- yet quiet. The noise is so much closer, it echoes off of nearby walls. She turns a corner and finds herself petrified. So tall. The source of the noise is nearly four feet taller than herself and massively larger. Alice looked over the strange being once more, but she held her ground firmly. Alice was not afraid, she didn't know the word. "I most assuredly think that you could help me reach the top shelf.." She announced.

[.alex]

His brain was fried for a few moments--had he gone into a sensory overload? He muscles tensed with anticipation as he saw a shadowy blob round the corner. This was most definitely the source of that smell. As soon as he saw the shadow, which was miniature to him, he could only assume they would run off. They did not. Maybe they had not yet noticed him? It was very foolish to think so; he was usually the largest "man" they'd ever seen. To think that they would call him a man would be foolish as well. The creature unravelled his fists, letting his claws dangle in the air by his gargantuan form.

He felt almost calm. Just for a few moments.

Croc tried to make out the features of the figure, but it was quite difficult with his shadow in the way. They had still not run away yet. What were they waiting for? Were they frozen with fear? He concluded that they had probably not seen his face yet. He could usually sense their fear radiating off of them. It comforted him in a way, to get some kind of warmish reaction out of a human being. This was not detected on the form before him. Now he was even more intrigued. The light was still behind him. He wondered what kind of reaction he would get if he stepped into it. The creature wavered slightly.

It was just him and the small blob. This was a heavily crime-infested area--blood-curdling screams were normal! No one would suspect anything; he wouldnt get caught here. Most people rarely did get caught in that area. He wondered if he even wanted to waste his throwing useless phrases back and forth with the blob. Croc was not one for intellectual battles; was it worth a try? He did not smell the Bat nearby. His instincts informed him that he was indeed quite famished. For a moment, he longed to be a rude little boy at the dinnertable.

So the shadow decided to speak! His red, glowing eyes widened in surprise at the pitch. This was a woman, and she had not run away? Now, he was not very bright, bit even that crossed him as peculiar. The beast already did by like this girl. She was even commenting on the fact that he was much larger than her, although in a way that struck him as odd and confusing. So why was she not running for her life? He lead a sharp claw to the nape of his neck, picky at a freshly healed scale. This was the perfect chance to strike; she was most definitely at a terrible disadvantage.

"You shhouldn't be out here," the creature hissed at her, "Lil' girl.."

Should he even be wasting his time with her? He still had to get his money back, and he was going to get it back that night. The light behind him flickered on and off briefly. They had both only seen each other in the shadows. Did either of them dare to go into the light? His tail peeked out from underneath his coat, very tempted to bask itself in the faint illumination. A few glints were cast off of the hardened scales of his tail, shimmering in it's green hue. If she had even noticed it, was her curiosity now satisfied?

[mary]

Alice tilted her head once more, rather resembling a small puppy that was faced with something particularly vexing. He was inhumanly large, even for Gotham's standards - which had spit out several strange men and women. No, she decided- he was not entirely human. His form was almost... reptilian, hunched very slightly- his arms almost elongated. He was terribly quiet, staring her (or so she presumed, as she couldn't quite see his eyes). He seemed unsure, perhaps he was considering killing her- most people in the Narrows considered this when somebody crossed their path. She tilted her head in the opposite direction now, it almost looked as though there was another person hiding in his coat behind him. Perhaps they were a circus act.. She mused inwardly, the tallest man, and the shortest man? No, the lump didn't move like a human...didn't breath under the coat- though it seemed to twitch slightly. She moved closer in his silence, making a half-circle about him. What a curious thing he was. Smiling, brightly, she watched as he lifted a large...claw(?)..to scratch at his thick neck. "You know.." She chimed cheerily, "I don't think that anybody should be out here.." Alice smiled, a laugh almost clinging to her words.

Alice could smell the creature now that she was closer.. He smelt like earth, and something almost metallic that she couldn't place. She felt much smaller as she neared him, the top of her head only reaching his elbow. His flesh was...almost glimmering. Scales? Alice said nothing for a long moment- wanting desperately to reach out and feel them..they looked strong, yet distinctly..smooth. "Perhaps we could get outta here together, huh?" She did laugh this time, looking over her shoulder- a habit that only occurred while she was in the Narrows.

Reaching out with only a heart-beat's hesitation, she stuck out her distinctly delicate hand.

"I'm Alice."

[.alex]

When the shadow finally moved, he predicted it was going to move away from him. On the contrary, the figure had actually traveled around him. He didn't like how comfortable she was; she reminded him of the fair far too much to his liking. He wondered if she was blind. If she was blind, how would she have been able to see him? Waylon deduced that she was most likely very brave or very stupid. Still, he did not like the fact that she was moving around him; it made him feel threatened. Perhaps a new animal instinct he was discovering?

She had even reached out a hand to him, suggesting that they leave the area together. Croc didn't know what to think of it. Then he remembered, she was a woman. Surely she was just lying to him; surely she would just turn him in as soon as he gave her an ounce of trust. He grew enraged at the thought, his mouth twisted into a horrible scowl. The beast felt his temperature rising, and his breath grew hot. He could not really see very much around him, most of the background replaced with a fuzzy, white glow. His first few words seethed with anger.

"Maybe I'm supposed t'be here," he snarled, backing away a bit, "Maybe I has a dinner date..."

He glanced down at her tiny, unfurled hand. He had not touched a willing woman in quite some time. He certainly didn't want to touch her. Still, her delicate hand was right there.. No, he refused it. He was nowhere near the same kind as her. The beast backed away from her slightly, his tail slumping against the aphsalt. He gazed to the light again; she was blind, in a way. He could easily rip the darkness from her pupils and show her what she really wanted to see. Croc shifted his bulky frame in his trench coat; it was a horrible suffocating piece of clothing. Of course, society told him that he had to wear it. Society told him a lot of things.

Without hesitation, he began striding into the light, his back to her. He squinted as the light tore into his eyes. One heavy breath escaped from his heavying lungs before he swiftly snapped his upper-half back in order to look at her. Now she could happily look upon a monster. He gave her a wild look for a few moments. Her scent had burned itself into his brain. Once he had the scent, all that was left was the taste. The animal inside of him craved a hunt, craved food. The beast took a heavy step towards her, tapping his claws against a nearby brick wall. They made a raspy, haunting soundbas they scraped the surface.

"You're inna damn bad place," he grumbled under his breath, "It's a dog eat dog world."

He was growing hungrier and hungrier by the second. He was always hungry. With red eyes he examined her closely. His dessert before dinner.

[mary]

He kept stiffening, almost as though he were positively startled by everything he did. Perhaps he was a giant, in which case- she supposed the movements of a smaller person might be a little frightening. It was interesting, in the dull light- she could still see his muscles rippling under his flesh? His face curled slightly, and soon- she felt hot, ragged breaths emerge in waves from the man. Perhaps he wasn't feeling well, brows rolling together, she made a noise of sympathy. And then, he spoke...his words rolling with utter rage. Alice seemed momentarily stunned, looking over him quietly. "You're going to be horribly late...its already dark.." She said, looking around, as if trying to identify where it was that he was supposed to be going.

All at once, her large new companion was moving. She paused only a moment, watching him move. He paused under a dully flickering street lamp that had yet to be vandalized beyond a bit of pain on its base. Even under the failing light, Alice was struck with how lovely the surface of his body was. Its color was dark, yet still radiated an emerald hue. Moving forward, she kept her eyes on him- drinking in his strange appearance. He was a reptile. She did not hesitate, and continued her advance- her eyes soon falling upon his eyes...which seemed to glow faintly even in the light. Brilliantly red, she heaved a small sigh, smiling calmly. "You're beautiful.." She murmured, her pale hand reaching out to stroke the outermost edge of his hand..fingers trailing from his wrist down to his clawed fingers. Smooth. She smiled inwardly,
she had been right.

His other hand rose, claws scraping roughly against the wall. Squeaking slightly at the unexpected noise, she tilted her head. She smiled at his words. She was in a bad place, all the more reason to take him out to...eat. Precisely, he was brilliant. A bright grin sprang forth, and Alice wrapped her small hand around what fingers she could manage to hold.

"Com'on, I'll take you out on a date..I'm hungry.." She chimed, her voice barely faltering- still seeming unaffected by his strange, even frightening appearance.

[.alex]

She didn't get it, did she? He was going to eat her. He was supposed to eat her! The beast played with the idea of just getting straight to the point. He was obviously talking in circles about his true intentions; so why not attack now? The creature had a morbid thought cross his mind. He wondered what it would look like--her little body crumpled into a bloody pile of flesh. How would it make him feel. Surely he would be satiated by then, but he would have to make room for the dirtbag. Croc sneered at the thought; his dinner would probably taste spoiled after her. He mused to himself--he'd just have to shovel it down like he had to broccoli in his youth!

Her hand brushed against his. He liked how people tasted, not how they felt. A gruff mumble escaped his jaws. Then his eyes shot open suddenly.

Had she really called him beautiful? Croc was flattered for a moment, even happy. She was...accepting him? The beast would've slapped himself across the face; how could he be so idiotic? There was no way anyone could ever understand him, much less this hopelessly cheerful girl. She was lying to him, no doubt. His neck tensed up, muscles twisting beneath a thick hide. What overcame him was the most peculiar mixture of rage, nausea, and a hint of grogginess. Was this what it felt like to truly hate someone? Croc had surely been enraged before, but he was not sure if he really hated. He thought of it more similar to a combination of him being hungry and the pitiful nature of the human race. He was enraged; he was hungry--yet he had still not eaten her.

Who was this woman? What was she planning to do with him? No one in the whole world was that selfless to him--certainly nothing human. He eyed her curiously; their hands were still touching. How he wanted to pull away! Curiously, he found that he could not move a muscle. Still, that white-hot frame to his vision remained. He knew at this point he was terribly angry, but the beast found that he could not do a thing about it. Clumsily, he began to pull his hand away as he regained some of his motor skills. A fly zipped by his ears, causing a waterfall of thoughts to come crashing down on his brain.

Just EAT her!

The voice echoed through his head. He longed to claim his hands over his ears and scream, but his limbs would not yet cooperate. Croc did not trust his own ears as she suggested to eat with him. She was even calling it a date. He had been on dates before, but it was usually with stupid whores in which he only wanted one thing. He hated felt loathing for her and a bit of interest, but not lust. Was she completely crazy? Of course, she was expecting an answer from him now. His thoughts froze for a moment. After a few moments, he felt a great motion of reanimation surge throughtout his body.

"Yes let's...eat," the beast uttered.

He was shocked by his own words. Was he an idiot too? Slowly, his reasoning came back to him. He could trick this girl. He could easily fool her, for her curiosity probably clouded her better judgement. It would be so easy to get this meal! The beast let a wide grin cross his face. How perfect it could all be, just this once. His grin faded as he realized just what he was doing. He was being just like the rest of mankind. Killer Croc was lying to her. Could he really do such a thing that he despised so very much? He paused for a moment. Yes.

He would do anything that brought him that much closer to being a man.

[mary]

Moonlight walking,
I smell your softness.
Carnivorous and lusting,
to track you down among the pines.
I want you stuffed into my mouth,
Hold you down and tear you open.
Live inside you.
Oh, I'd never hurt you.

Alice Fitch was still positively perplexed by his scales.. they were smooth- yet still possessed a rugged, roughness about them that made her hands feel dry. Her palm pressed flat against his forearm, she inquisitively continued to run her fingertips along the manbeast's rippling scales. Almost iridescent in the moonlight, she couldn't help but find herself wondering if perhaps the strangle flesh was actually made of some sort of precious stone. It was truly lovely. She tilted her head as again, her newfound friend stiffened under her touch. His body felt like pure rock, yet- somehow it was pliable and delicate in its own sense. She couldn't help but wonder how it was that he had come to be this way.. was he born as only-half man, perhaps crawling from an egg? Or perhaps he had been...altered? She tilted her head, but couldn't help but chortle in amusement. "Nobody has told you that before?" She offered, shaking her head- a few stray strands of hair shifting around her face. "Gotham isn't always the..nicest place." Alice admitted with a sympathetic nod, "You're stronger than that though..." Her hand curled, rapping softly on his scales. "We both have tough skin, huh?"

Her small hand moved, settling near the crook of his arm as she beamed proudly up to him. She tugged him forward, as best as possible- though, her much smaller frame could hardly make a dent in his posture. Quite suddenly, he seemed to come back to life- moving forward slightly...agreeing that they should go out to dinner. Smiling, Alice nodded- casting a hand in the direction of the edge of the Narrows- where the middle class of Gotham desperately clung. "There is a lovely little place down that way." She eyed him, her lips quirking near the edges. "You like seafood, maybe?"

[.alex]

He couldn’t really think straight at that point. Croc was still puzzled by the fact that she had willingly gone with him. She could have run away now; she still have time. Still, this girl did not run away. He even knew her name--then again, he didn’t know if it was her real name or not. The beast was still hesitant to give his own name. There wasn’t a very good reason not to give his name; it wasn’t like that was what they called him on TV. Even if they did mention his real name, it always came after “Killer Croc”. Every time he heard someone call him that, he wanted to roar until their ears bled. He absolutely hated that name they had given him, but it was what the reporters had always called him. Never had he simply been called Waylon Jones on the evening news. Hell, the Bat never called him it!

It was no surprise that his apartment did not have a television set.

She started to laugh, and he could only assume it was at him. The creature became very uncomfortable, starting to look a bit unsure or embarrassed with himself. He secretly wished he was a turtle instead. At least they had shells to hide in. How could he hide himself? It was something worth being laughed at. Red eyes shifted over her way, briefly looking her over. Why was he letting her influence how he felt? The beast could not help himself--he had always been laughed at. Laughter had become a stimulus for very bad feelings. Sure, he laughed as well, but that was different. He needed to take the opportunities to laugh; he did it so rarely. People always had the chance to laugh at him.

A rasping noise caught his attention. His instincts came alive as he became extremely alert. Then, the creature realized that it was own hide making the noise, along with the girl’s fingers. When he was touched by women in the past, he usually got excited. He did not enjoy this. Maybe her fingers would feel better in his mouth. She brought up his physical appearance again, and he had to suppress a snarky snort. This Alice girl was ridiculous. Croc thought she was very stupid, thinking he was beautiful. Beautiful. Him and that word simply did not get along. He could never see anything beautiful; he could never touch anything beautiful; he could never be beautiful. It simply did not work.

Tough skin. An admirable play-on-words. Had she been talking to Waylon, he probably would have broke down crying. She was not talking to Waylon; she was talking to Killer Croc--a very hungry Killer Croc. It was then that he finally decided that he would pay a lot of money to see her bound and gagged in a dank room, being teased with a crack of light but never being able to get to it. He mulled it over for a few moments and edited it. He wouldn’t pay that much money. She got a better grip on his arm, smiling up at him. The beast didn’t know how to respond. He tried to smile, but it came out crooked and twitchy. His teeth weren’t nearly as desirable as hers, either. He would have to eat her quickly; he couldn’t get too attached.

”Of course,” he let a bit friendlier smirk out at the seafood comment.

His name popped up in his brain again.

No, he couldn’t let her call him Waylon. He’d get attached, and that was bad. How was he supposed to eat her then? If she treated him like a person...If she...He couldn’t.

He...

”My name's..Waylon, by th'way.”

[mary]

Alice closed her eyes only briefly, leaning her head against his muscled arm as she tried to find the memories that she so desired. She had heard of the manbeast before, she was sure of it. Mike Engal on Gotham Television did a report about the him when he was sent to Arkham...she probed her mind once more. He had served as a professional wrestler, Killer Croc, his assumed name. He hadn't revealed his name in incarceration. Mike has continued to remark on how the criminal had simply seemed to wriggle out of the woodwork- very little information was available on his past. She opened her eyes once more, inhaling once more. He smelt like old dirt, and something almost like plants in the early spring. His coat was worn, and seemed slightly too small for him.. She tilted her head, wondering quietly if perhaps a tailor could make him a larger one. He squirmed under her hands once more- and she couldn't help but feel saddened by how terribly nervous she seemed to make him. Her laughter faded as he looked over her like she was an alien, something so far from himself that he was utterly dumbfounded. The Fitch woman smiled up to him sheepishly, giving his arm a little squeeze.

Tugging on his arm with a little more insistence, the duo were soon wandering at a leisurely pace. The dark woman tilted her head back once more, gazing up at the stars- though, they were terribly obscured by the perpetual gloom that hung over Gotham City. Though- the occasional light could manage to shine through the smog. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as a nervous, trembling smile spread across the croc's face. She said nothing, but smiled inwardly, giving his arm another excited tug. Perhaps he would enjoy their date as much as she?

He spoke, in the same, quiet, almost bashful nature.. Waylon. She could distinctly remember the name. It was a story from her childhood. A blacksmith, perhaps he was? She mulled over it, before decided she didn't really care where the name came from. She liked it. "Its a good name.." She announced, leaning her head against his arm as she beamed up to him.

"Waylon..."

The name rolled pleasantly off her tongue, and she smiled serenely. It had a certain rugged sturdiness about it. Fitting, really. "It fits you.." She said, nudging his side with her elbow playfully.

[.alex]

It was funny how little they really knew about him. They didn't know about his Pop or his Mama. The media didn't even know what he had done to his Mama. Maybe the story of a crazy, voodoo queen being eaten alive wasn't interesting enough for them. He wouldn't be surprised; this was Gotham City, after all. They occupied their time with chasing after costumed criminals who were, all in all, just very bored people. Croc's upper lip twitched as she squeezed his arm. He didn't want her to get too cozy; he was going to eat her in a few minutes or so, anyway. Waylon was about to pick at his scales when he stopped himself midway; it was a bad habit. He really should be stopping it. Then, the beast remembered that he didn't really care and scratched at the chipped parts of his hide anyway. He was still incredibly hungry; he didn't know how much longer he could suppress his animal instincts. The scent began to waft up to his flaring nostrils again, causing him to snort it out like a primal entity. His grip tightened on her arm as well, a little too tight. If he could just pull her pretty little head into his mouth...

Croc was tired of being patient.

The girl was simply teasing him with her smiles--teasing him with those plump muscles stretching out her skin. It was getting a little bit ridiculous. Wasn't he supposed to have eaten her by now? That was what he was most known for. Still, he couldn't help but be suspicious about this girl. What was she, a very little woman, doing on the East Side? She must have been associated with some of the villains of Gotham. Good, he could eat her with a better-rested conscience. He hated most of the lot. They were just plain weird to him--real freaks. He did not have a choice when he was growing up; they did. No one told them that they needed to be a creepy, little bird-man that liked to wash himself with wads of cash. They didn't have to become some weird clown that liked to prance around in drag with his bitch following loyally behind. Maybe it was just the ones that were a little more notorious than him that he disliked. His claws dug into the palm of his reptilian hand as he thought of his whole life in Gotham City. Maybe he hadn't become some internationally famous banker or lawyer--but that would be boring! He personally thought that his line of work was great.

He got to talk to his food. How many people could do that at their job?

"Herk--" he could not hold in a laugh at her statement; his name?

A nice name? What a joke.

"Nice that y'think so missus, but..." Killer Croc paused for a moment; he took extra effort to actually think, "Wait, why don't we stop here?"

He was an idiot. What were they stopping for? He tried to think of something moderately intelligent in a few seconds, which was nearly impossible for him.

"I've never been out of tha' East Side b'fore," he laid his beady, red eyes upon the shabby suburbs whose lights flickered on and off, "I kinda wanna take it in, y'know?"

What a stupid lie. Croc would've laughed at his mediocrity if it wouldn't give away his intentions so quickly. Who knew, though. Maybe the girl would finally catch on; maybe she would start screaming and running away. Then he could finally chase her and have something to eat. He had totally given up on dinner--he felt that he would be too full after dessert to be able to stalk his prey effectively. Honestly, the money could wait a little bit longer at this point. Besides, then he could collect some interest! The creature shifted his gaze from the dancing lights to Alice's minuscule figure. While he looked like he was on steroids, this girl was practically the exact opposite. An unfair fight? He was game. The tip of his tail curled in excitement beneath the confines of his trench coat. He wondered how well she could handle 40 lbs to the face. It didn't look like it would go well; that cheek looked awfully soft and squishy. They must have looked like quite the odd-couple to on-lookers; a little mouse and a giant crocodile--what a laugh! Croc would not allow them to leave the East End. This was the end of the road for the little woman.

Or so he thought.


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