Jack and Joe, they had a knack to put obvious things straight and loud.
- Two mean sons of a bitch you expect to get raped by at night.
- Straight off the soft jacket of a horror novel.
Separately, they would have probably ended up raising big happy families, living in dumps, or dead. Together, they were two engines, always keeping the other one running in sync.
At night, they would sweep the sleeping city, both a shadow of the other's shadow.
- This street is one narrow corridor with a long way out.
- They'd all rather be tenants.
No shiny things, no cars, no footsteps, no nothing. Not a gang. Gangs were just tenants.
They had two names between them, Jack and Joe. Some nights, they would swap.