It is a crisp, breezy Monday morning. Dusters the Echidna has parked his truck on the corner of Acorn Street and Ocean Bay road. Sitting next to him, in the front passenger seat, is Chris. With a pair of binoculars in hand, he is in the process of surveying one double-story condominium of the many lining either side of the street. They all looked similar in design, but were painted in different shades of "sea" colors varying from aquamarine to light yellow. What could possibly be so special about this one condo?
"Still nothing?" Dusters grunts while tapping his muscular fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. "Just one of these houses is probably worth more than I make in five years, and it kind of pisses me off."
He looks around. It is still early, and every now and then a man or fox or raccoon in a suit emerges from one of the condominiums, dressed in a business suit complete with a tie, or in one case, even, a high-ranking military officer's uniform.
