A coy pitter patter of perfect rain patted against the plastic. Various types of foil and pretty pictures of Owls in sensual poses line the small hovel that sits behind the Bebop Headquarters. In between the run down Edition I and the Edition III that was turned into a strip club by the new owners, his small operations was being run with an iron fist.

GODKING COLLECTION AGENCY

"He-hello?" a young man, who couldn't have been older than the age of 19, shouted into the tent which was illuminated only by one single candle in the exact middle of the room. Trust me, he used a measuring tape and everything. 

"YOU. MAY. ENTER."

"I... can I just stay out here?"

"WE WILL ALLOW IT."

The boy threw a small suitcase into the establishment. He knew how this worked by now, everyone here did. They give him money and in exchange he would tell them their fortune. He wasn't sure where they got this idea that Owls are wise, but it was an easy racket and brought him in hundreds of thousands in a good season.

"THIS PLEASES THE GODKING. I SEE. I SEE. IT IS VERY CLOUDY. YOU ARE MALE, YES? I SEE MUCH IN YOUR FUTURE. OOOooooh IT IS SO VERY, VERY HARD TO SEE. I MUST HAVE MORE MONEY IF I AM TO GET THROOOOOOUGH THE SPIRITS AND INTO THE GRIT THAT IS YOUR SOUL. PLEASE, CHILD. COME BACK. COME BACK BUT ONE MORE TIME. OoooohhhhhHHHhhh."

"I'm - I'm sorry, but this is the third time I've give - give - given you money. I'm n-n-not going to do it again."

He was used to this. They always eventually caught on. Sometimes it took them six or seven trips, but this boy had figured it out in a mere three. He was almost too smart for his own good. The Owl began clucking loudly for a few moments before the kid finally got the idea and decided to run as quickly away from the premise as possibly could. Like I said, smart.

"What's this? One of them poor folk? Cassandra, get that newfangled camera and get over here! I believe we've found ourselves a shanty."

At first Mr. Owl, being so important and imposing in every single way, was severely annoyed by the idea that people were disrespecting his wonderful place of business. Yet he did not end them. No, he had a plot much greater than mere death. He would con them! He would con all of them! It was the perfect plan. Meekly crawling from his hovel, he let off a few coughs and looked up at the people with a sad and twisted smile.

"Look at him, dearest. He's absolutely dreadful. Throw a few dollars and lets go." Taking some coins out of her pocket the woman decided to pelt him with the money before both people evacuated as quickly as they came. Again he was almost insulted, but looking down he realized a great idea, one that may be even more profitable than the last. Making a few adjustments to his sign, he pulled his tent into the middle of the street for all to see and waited.

GODKING DONATION AGENCY

• Are you rich?!
• Are you a philanthropist!? 
• Do you want to give me all  a poor person some much needed income?
• Are you RICH?

YOU'VE CAME TO THE RIGHT PLACE!!!

WOW!

AMAZING!

PHILANTHROPY!

Those are all words! 

Help now!

Anything less than $1,000,000 not accepted.

All money goes towards MrOwl and not an actual charity.

You get nothing.

THANK YOU!