Massaging his bruised ribs, Damian spat on the sidewalk before looking up at the sign above:
MAX POTENTIAL
MAX POTENTIALFangs for Your Business!
Fangs for Your Business!Damian groaned at the cheese, opening the door. As he did so, the bell above announcing Damian’s arrival emitted the familiar bat screeching that he loathed so much. It was a tone Max had wasted $5 on years ago, back when such novelties were first popular. Now, it was outdated and groan inducing.
“Just a minute!” Max’s cheerful voice called out from behind the bead curtain in the back of the shop. There was a rustle, and the sound of glass shattering. Max was apparently taking inventory.
Max Potential possessed a simple setup, with items cluttering walls, shelves, cases, and even the ceiling, suspended in plexiglass bo
