You know how Unicorns are all cuddly and shit in movies? It ain't like that in real life. Them bastards got hate in their hearts. Their hooves throw sparks off the asphalt in your face. They do it and giggle. Bunch of 'em live in Central Park. They ain't white, they change color. Like a chameleon. That's why most people don't see 'em.

Sure they talk but you don't wanna hear what they say. It's evil. They keep whispering at you to do the most awful stuff. Even when I sleep I can hear them telling me ideas no one would want to hear. Sometimes I can smell their breath, all moldy grass and stale hay, right on my face. I keep my eyes closed, hope they'll go away.

The werewolves in Grand Central are better in my opinion. Least they don't fill your heads with lies. Course they kill people. But who misses the occasional uptight businessman coming into the city? Most of those fuckers deserve it. You shouldn't eat at Grand Central, foods all contaminated. I found a hunk of wolf hair in my Junior's cheesecake once. They laugh at gravity and clamber around the roof of the main room for kicks. You can see 'em out the corner of your eye if you look just right. Their eyes blend into the stars up there.

Androids in Union Square usually don't bother no one. They leak oil too bad. Always wear too many clothes to try and sop it up. Was a bad war a couple years ago 'tween them and the Bowery Cyborgs. Shit got nasty. You get up in the morning and see old circuit boards and metal wire strung down the street and into the sewers.

Sewers is where the homeless cyborgs live. You can see 'em down there if you know where to look. But you gotta get past the alligators first.

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