THE BACKSTORY    |   WEEK 1  :  CLUE 1

In the town of Danslow there is very little to do. You have the diner, the movie theater, Main Street (which is closed by 9pm) and then Tweaks Tavern, which you usually can’t get into unless Mick is working the front door. Danslow is a sleepy haven where people come to raise a family protected from the sins of the outside world. The houses are very similar and all in tight little rows. Main Street runs through the entire town and empties at The Textile Mill, which employs most of the adults and a large number of the teenagers who live there. People quit all the time because of Charlie, the fat, sweaty, cigar-chomping pervert who runs the place. He’s racist, sexist, and homophobic and anything else you can stack on him.

Though picturesque you hate living in Danslow and tonight seems to be the worst of all of it. It’s summer and the AC is broken, Mick isn’t working the door at Tweaks and you’ve seen all the movies. You figure maybe you’ll drive twenty minutes outside of town and hit the mall but not alone, it’s lame to walk around the mall alone. You call your best friend to go with you to assure yourself some company but there is no answer on either the home or cell phone. This is odd you say to yourself but you keep trying. After thirty minutes you decide maybe he’s at work and forgot his cell, so you drive out to the job to see when your friend gets off work. The boss is pissed because your friend didn’t come to work and left him hanging. Now you’re worried.

Your drive to your friend’s house, out towards the mill, arriving around 9:30, and see that the place is covered in darkness. The living room lamp isn’t on; even the TV is off which it never ever is. You walk to the front door and when you knock the door just eases open with an ominous creek. Walking into the house you feel the cold hand of dread ease up your spine as the hairs on your neck stand up on end. You walk up the stairs to your friend’s room, startled at every creek, and rumble the house makes. You ease open the door to your friends bedroom, which is pitch black. You flip on the light and stumble back in horror. Your friend is lying on the bed face down with blood everywhere. It’s clear he’s dead. Freaked out you fly down the steps almost falling. On your way back out the front door, you whip out your cell phone and call the police but inside you know what has to be done. The cops here are idiots, it’s up to you to find out who killed your best friend so brutally, and why!