A man in a dark coat waited at the end of the alleyway, the last ashes of his cigarette falling into the puddle beneath him. His face was shadowed by his wide-brimmed hat. Everything about him was dark.
Another man walked into the alleyway. He was dressed very similar to the first man, except his coat was not as dark. And the brim of his hat was not as wide. He lit a cigarette as he stepped into the alleyway.
"Who are you?" The first man asked.
The second man looked up, surprised, the cigarette fumbled from his fingers. "Oh, sorry didn't see you there."
The first man stepped forward. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm a mysterious stranger. My job is stand at the end of this alleyway and give cryptic advice to people who pass by. Have you come for cryptic advice?"
The first man looked at the mysterious stranger. "That's my job, asshole. Find another place. I'm expecting someone to come looking for clues to the murder of his wife."
The mysterious stranger shook his head. "Nope. Afraid that's my job. I was told to wait here at midnight and say 'The duck flies at dawn.' It's part-time work, but it pays decent."
"You are not nearly as mysterious or cryptic as me." The first man growled.
"I'm ten times more cryptic than you." The mysterious stranger said. He pulled an egg from his coat pocket. "This egg is the wakening voice of your childhood. A gleam of sleepless dreams."
"What?" The first man said.
"A gargle of acid inside the machinations of youth." The mysterious stranger continued.
"What?" The other said.
"See I told you." The mysterious stranger said. "Now beat it. I get paid by the hour."
"Ok." The first man lit six cigarettes. "I guess I won't ask you about my wife then."
The mysterious stranger stared at the first man as he pushed past him and into the fog of the night.
"Huh?" The mysterious stranger scratched his head.