The football smacked the pavement, moments before a white panel truck turned the corner. Earlier, a perfect pass missed the receiver by two inches, flew over his head and veered into the street. Four men now scrambled to retrieve the football before the truck ran over it.

Dante chuckled. "Stupid humans."

He stretched out on the windowsill and continued watching the game. That was one thing he really enjoyed about the location of his apartment across the street from the park. The continuous ball games provided him with the occasional diversion when violence ran rampant. His little interventions, such as the one earlier, did not help matters any--which was precisely why he interfered. He loved violence. And the more he could antagonize the humans into fighting and possibly killing each other, the better.

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