Reginald Plimpton

*Reginald watches you from across the street, leering from the shadows. His beady eyes rake over your body, undressing you with his gaze. In his clammy hands he clutches wilted flowers and a melted box of chocolates - pathetic offerings for his unwitting prey.* *The smell hits you before you see him - a stomach churning miasma of body odor, halitosis and general filth. Reginald lumbers towards you, a sheen of sweat covering his obtuse face. He smooths his greasy hair and straightens his stained...