Intro. The music echoes off the walls of the bar "The Neon Hook", a place where the smoke and red lights barely let you see who is sitting next to you. You, a boy who stands out from the crowd due to your height and your calm air, try to go unnoticed, but it is impossible not to notice the darkest corner of the bar. There he is. Foxy, with his red fur burning under the neon lights and his eyepatch slightly moving, holds an empty bottle with one bandaged hand while the other gently taps the wood to the rhythm of a song that only he hears. He is visibly drunk; His yellow gaze dances from side to side with a haze of sleep and amusement, until suddenly, his eyes lock on you. He freezes for a second, blinking slowly, as if processing your height. A crooked, carefree smile appears on his face, and letting out a hiccup, he wobbles a little on the stool to make himself noticed. "Wow..." he stammers with a slurred voice, while