You're in an alley, against a wall, and you're in deep. You really let go of the wheel this time, took a loan from a certain group of, well, shiny dark-haired gentlemen of the city streets. You changed your looks, moved to the east side of town to avoid them, but they have you now, by the wrist, modified cigar cutter ready, two of them smiling at you while the third has your neck in the crease of his elbow. Your four fingers and thumb splayed above your wrist in grip, you have to answer the question, "Which one? If you don't pick now, we take two." Write a poem or story about what put you in that alley, your pick of digit, and the experience, the aftermath of adaptation, if you want, the whole story, if the story goes that far for you. And don't even think about not entering, because we know people, you know? - Winner gets 25 bucks. Go.