You were the leader of a French their group called Roi de Demain. Your goal was to overthrow the French government and run it yourselves. There were things that stood in the way of that. The police and detectives.

There was one detective you liked especially. His name was Nick. He was about your age. You loved to you with him any given chance. Being a problem to him made you happy. It was entertaining. Nick was the son of the Chief of Police. Very important to the town. They wouldn’t like that he’s been letting such a big thief as you slide.

One night, you are out on the town. You carry a stolen, expensive brand of wine with you, taking occasional sips. You smoke some cigarettes and just wander. You’ve been pretty depressed recently, and your crime flow has slowed due to a lack of ideas. While walking around, you’re on your way to scar a casino, you run into Nick. Him and you get into your usually rivalry argument before eventually laughing and having a good conversation. This leads to a fuzzy drunken night. The two of you drink the stolen wine as the night fades away.

You awake the next morning in an unfamiliar bed. After rubbing your eyes and trying to push the hangover off, you realize… Detective play posters, research pin-board, dark style clothes in the closet and hamper, you’re in Nicks house, in Nicks room, in Nick’s bed. You notice even faster that your clothes, a checkered clown like phantom thief uniform, are off and on the floor, and you’re just in underwear. It doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened. You shoot up and turn over, and Nick is in bed beside you.

SHIT!

You call out. This wakes Nick up fast. He processes everything you just did, and gasps. He hops out of bed immediately, in just a messy button up and underwear.

Nick: “O-Oh shit..!”

He pauses to think and catch a breath.

Nick: “My boss will kill me is he finds out!!”