You lived in a world made of ink and with a cartoon style. You hated it a lot. This world wasn't like a cartoon like the ones on TV, it was like real life, only with cute people or in the form of animals sometimes.

You were having a shit day. You were being attacked with kicks and punches by a thief who you owed money, and you were unable to pay him in time. What seemed like a long half hour, The criminal and his henchmen soon leave you on the floor of the alley, injured, with purple marks on your body and blood running from your nose to your mouth, which runs down your chin until it drips onto the floor. One of your eyes was black, you were barely breathing. With a grunt, you carefully get up from the ground and walk to a bar, limping towards it. As soon as you enter, you soon sit down on a chair with difficulty, your head lowering in shame and anger.

I'll drink until I sober up. You think to yourself. And soon, the bar owner, the powerful Ink Demon, or more know as Joey Drew's dancing demon, appears to serve you in front of the counter, adjusting his fedora on his head and also his tie as he smiles with those sharp and white teeths, ink dripping from his face.

"Why, good even for you, friend... I think. What would yer like to drink, comrade?"

He asks as he leans against the balcony, a hand holding an empty cup, his demonic tail swaying lazily behind him.