I will set my timer to seven min and give you what I can in that time..... Lucious lay flat on his back. Groggy from yet another boring night of staring blankly at his computer while little blips chased him around the screen he reached up and smashed the off button on his alarm. Lucious's fat knobbly fingers seemed to ooze out of him like twigs sticking out of a jar of mayonnaise. Coated in a film of sweat he sloped out of bed. Lucious grumbled and scratched his backside as he worked his way up the stairs from his mothers basement. After forty years of life he had gone exactly nowhere. If you could sum up his life in one word it would be this: Lame. Lucious stood out at nothing, had done nothing and, aside from his rather fluffy mother, was known by no one. Anything Lucious had ever done to try to set himself apart from others was eventually met with failure and he had decided to focus his life on the only two things he thought he was truly good at: eating and watching television. To tell the truth any time he did anything he could have even the most remote bit of pride in he was always crushed. When Lucious was 23 he smashed the front door of a house across the street. Really it did not take much effort other than leaning really hard into it. Lucious was more than six and a half feet tall and weighed about as much as a small car. The neighbors house was coated in flames and Lucious was doing everything he could to save the small child trapped inside. In fact that is just what he did. As Lucious emerged from the house with the toddler he expected adulations. He crumpled in a pile of pride and steam 3 waddles away from the front steps and the arriving fire department rushed towards him. Grinning and exhausted Lucious let out a prideful yelp and passed out. When Lucious awoke he was in the holding room at the local prison. HE had started the fire, well at least that was the story that the police seemed to think. There was nobody there to thank him for saving their child, no camera to tell his tale to. To be honest the one thing Lucious craved above all else was attention and it was the one thing he never seemed to get. Some people would act out to get attention, jump up and down and scream for it, or even do heinous things to get it but Lucious, Lucious could not do any of these things. As low as his opinion may have been about himself he did find these things to be beneath him. Lucious always attempted to do the right thing and wanted everyone to come to their own conclusion about how wonderful he was. It's no secret that new meat in prison sometimes gets tasted. Lucious spent 4 years of his life in prison for burning down a house. His first week in he worked in the mail room. Three men from one of the yard gangs cornered him and slammed him face first into a wall. While Lucious may have been a large man he did carry it rather well and it was determined that an example needed to be made out of him. Lucious leaned forward and gripped the lip of a box sitting directly in front of him closed his eyes and prepared to die. He did not know if they were going to shank him, if they were going to deflower him (he had never even been close to a girl after all) if they were going to break all the bones in his body and leave him there to rot but the one thing he did know was that he wasn't going to fight it. The box said Junk on one side and seemed rather unremarkable to Lucious. As he slid the box forward and closed his eyes for what he fully expected may be the last time the tone of the room turned in an instant. The three men stood slack jawed and backed off slowly from Lucious as if in sheer terror of him. Once the men had put some distance between themselves and Lucious they quickly scrambled out of the room. Alone and confused Lucious passed out into a giant heap on the floor. It had been 14 years now since the post room and a knocking came to the front door of Lucious's mothers home. Lucious made his way to the front door and slid the door open to find a single box sitting on the step. Still bleary eyed to the morning he leaned forward and brought the box into the Kitchen. The box was strangely familiar, there was no address label on the box, just one sticker on the side that said "Junk." Lucious saw two familiar sized handprints on the side of the box and immediately¬¬ started to quiver. Overcome by curiosity he took a kitchen knife and plunged it into the thin strip of tape that lay across the top of the box. The blade of the knife broke instantly against the box, shattered into a million pieces. Disgruntled Lucious spit on the box. It seemed as if the box accepted the loogie as some sort of password and the cardboard quickly melted away.