ZombieFoxTrot

Preface:     Murdoc's greasy black hair swayed delicately above his mismatched eyes, which scanned the landfill enquiringly. Dirty smoke drifted into the breeze with every exhale from his yellowed, pointed teeth, of which were bent into a twisted smirk upon his greenish skin. His stained red bandana sort of twitched within a larger gust of wind that would sometimes blow by.     “Got a wicked feeling about today,” he casually spoke aloud, taking another drag.     “Wicked feeling 'bout what, Mudsie?” 2-D suddenly walked out to stand aside his friend. The azure-haired boy pulled a cigarette out from behind his ear a