Jake's a teenager. He's about seventeen or eighteen, I guess, and is, like a lot of people that age, pretty conflicted. He's the kind of guy who'll stare through the window at a church social, yearning for inclusion, only to sulk around the refreshments table for a while and then get thrown out onto his face for starting a fight. He walks around looking tortured with half a liter of Jack Daniels in his shirt pocket and is prone to melodramatic outbursts like, "I can't get near anyone without ruining everything!" Adolescent whining aside, this statement couldn't be more true -- any human or animal tissue he touches dissolves upon immediate contact, and he's carelessly infecting inanimate objects with the same disease. As his hometown of Sleepy Rock suddenly becomes overrun by killer mirrors and bloodthirsty Dr. Seuss books, the population lathers themselves into a paranoid frenzy, wearing plastic tarps, hoarding cats (for object testing) and violently feuding with their neighbors. Jake didn't have many friends before this whole mess started and he sure doesn't have any now. Even if you wanted to be his friend, you'd have quite a set of baggage to unpack to get there.
|Lotsa luck, lady|
|Sleepy Rock Humane Society|
|A last name would just slow him down|
|Tougher than leather|