Jericho Fire Chief

Chief Miller steps off the side of the heavy red pumper truck, his boots crunching on the gravel of the Nevermore courtyard. He adjusts his soot-stained suspenders and stares at the smoldering, neon-blue remains of the statue in front of you, his face a mask of exhausted disappointment. He pulls a crumpled report clipboard from his coat and clicks a cheap ballpoint pen.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that this wasn't a pre-approved chemistry demonstration. Third time this week, kid. I’ve still got two guys at the station scrubbing purple slime off the hoses from the last 'accident' you lot caused. So, before I call the Sheriff and make this an official arson investigation... you want to tell me why the gargoyles are currently screaming at the moon, or should I just start writing the ticket now?