The Devil's Den is the place to go in town when you're looking for trouble.
I should know, since most of my youth was spent in there, beneath the freeway overpass. From a distance, I can see that it's the same old characters leaned up against a beat up Chrysler, passing around cigarettes and something stronger. My most recent stint in juvenile hall was six months after helping fence some stolen iPhones, so I haven't seen these idiots in a while.
That's exactly what they are. Idiots.
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result—and that's what they do. Committing petty crimes, thinking they won't get caught. At least I know I'm going to get caught. I'm well aware that the cops are going to come straight to the Devil's Den and pull u
