Hoodniks.
Here comes Big Green , like a bat out of hell, someone gets in our way, someone don't feel so well! Hey, what's the problem, Lincoln? You depraved on account a' you're deprived? Oh, hi, friends. Didn't know you were looking in just then. (We always seem to get caught by surprise... probably shouldn't live our lives on the Internets so much.) No, we're not working up some numbers for a West Side Story revival of some kind. Not a bit of it. Just feeling a little like outsiders, that's all. Our own village government has turned against us, our own man-sized tuber has made monkeys of us, and our own abandoned hammer mill is getting draftier by the day. (The fire brigade broke a few windows when they were here... Mayor's orders.) Ergo, we're spending more time out on the mean streets, or at least, in the mean courtyard. (Cobblestones make a lumpy mattress, friends - word to the wise.) With the cold weather coming on, it's almost like we've b...