Somewhere back in time, Stikey and I were sitting in a kind of fort that we built out of tree branches, by a fire when he told me about the rabbit hole and how and where to find it.
Those early runs, we did a lot of them together, down into the hole, twisting through those crazy tunnels, digging new passages, unstoppable in every way.
Later he caught something down there, he got sick, those tunnels and the places they lead were full of spores and he just breathed in too many.
His grip on the world outside the Hole was lost and most of us, we thought he was done for.
But he fought back, he got back up by himself, and by himself he boarded the Hole up and bolted it shut, and hasn’t gone back since.
He’s smart, as adept at running a company as he is at fleecing you for every cent you have across a poker table. Money slides like mercury toward him and of all my friends, you bet your ass he will be the first to make a million.
There’s this line that Big Red used to say everytime he saw Stikey when we were growing up, it was a question, ‘Is he a Greek God, or a goddamn greek?’
The answer, I think, is that he’s both, which makes him a stand up guy to have on your side, but not a guy you’d want to fuck with if he isn’t.
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