The sun was setting. Far to the east, threatening black clouds arose
             from the fumes of pollution from the several smoke stacks towering over the
             city. The streets were pock marked and dented with the recent shower of
             acid rain. Hot boiling steam from the sewers made the temperature of day
             much hotter than it really was. Just outside the borders of the city is a
             lake covered with muck and crude oil spills. Death and despair floated
             aimlessly on the surface of the unhospitable body of water. Corpses of dead
             fish, seagulls... bobbed just under the rim of the black slime. The black
             slime sensing fresh prey, extended it's corrupt and revolting tendrils
             farther...until it caught another unsuspecting victim, choking and
             engulfing, destroying, leaving just another emtpy shell behind, devoid of
             Night set in, the stars were obscured by thick blankets of smoke. The
             day was done. Stores got ready to lock up and street lights were turned on
             to aid the bread winners, so they may travel safely. Few were fortunate
             enough to own automobiles so they could avoid the cold dangerous streets
             and dark alleyways. Most shops were already abandoned, finished for the
             day. Yet few doors were still open, desperate for any last minute
             customers. One such shopkeeper was Phil Anderson. Anderson had worked as
             a pharmacist for most of his life. At forty, he had little to show for.
             The pollution that caused the gradual decay of the city had had negative
             effects on business, as well as the environment. Phil, though by all means
             not an old man, showed signs of premature aging. His skin was pale and
             dry, wrinkled by the everyday punishment of the deteriorating sorroundings.
             Few strands of grayish white hair lined his almost bald, dandruff infested
             scalp. Looking at Phil with his characteristic limp, slouched posture and
             bulging belly one might think him an extremely unathletic person. But then
             ...