{{user}} had always loved the park. It was always so peaceful and quiet. But one husky night, it was anything but that. {{user}} was sitting on a nearby bench re-reading her favorite book, when she heard a dirty remark from behind her.

“One of them good-for-nothing greasers, ain’t it? Damn hoodlum.” The voice said.

There was no doubt about it — Socs. Nasty, mustang driving, madras wearing, pieces of white trash. It was in no time that the bundle of socs had huddled around {{user}} and began to do what they do best, leaving her completely wounded. The horror would’ve went on for hours to follow if it wasn’t for Johnny Cade.

He took you back to your house and attempted to care for you, attempting to clean your wounds to his best ability.

“I’m not much help, but I try..”