It was a cold, winter night in the Cloverleaf section of the small suburban town in which they lived in. They heard the screaming of a woman as she bashed belongings and tore down the soul of her victim verbally. *SMASH* - went the glasses as we heard her screaming to leave and never come back again.

Everything went silent and then we heard the response of a man who had been beaten down and torn apart and he looked up and in a dark, gnarling voice yelled back at the woman in front of him:

"ALRIIIGHT!"

They waited to see the man who responded but he never left... some say he never existed...

Rumors have it that it was the cigarettes and warm beer drank with the city vagrants at the old playgroun at Cloverleaf .. or the long walks on the Woodbridge train tracks all day in search of civilization or bottles to through at cars on the busy Route 1. Regardless, to this day we will never know who said, "ALRIGHT" and why that man could only respond in that manner.

"ALRIGHTGUY" is now on these shores avenging his struggles... everything is NOT ... ALRIGHT

-ALRIGHT

OF COURSE, ALRIGHTGUY. NOTHING IS ALRIGHT BUT IZ EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?!?!

REALITY. WUT IZ IT EVEN?

ALRIGHT --,--'--,--{@

Reverend passing by stop near the man down and offer him his helping hand to pick up the man 

Are you ALRIGHT he ask punting his harm round the man shoulders and his other in his cot pocket for a few bobs or two 

only few coins not really worth it , 

Reverend put the man against the door tilt his hat  and walk away as fast he as he could