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Description
Stephen was born and raised on the rough side of Chicago during the 1950s all the way up until the day of his death in the 1970s. With his parents out of the picture for unknown reasons, the last time he saw them was during infancy, he was raised by his uncle; a used cars saleman that was as sleazy as they came. However, Stephen's uncle was an excellent parental figure who took care of the boy like he was his own son and taught him how to survive on the mean streets of their hometown with a sharp wit and a sliver tongue; the boxing lessons he got Stephen at the local rec center didn't hurt matters either.

Stephen took to those lessons like a duck to water and pretty soon he was running plenty of cons of his own, becoming the very definition of a smooth operator who could talk his way out of any bad situation and always stay three steps ahead of his enemies...or so he liked to think.

The truth is that Stephen wasn't the mastermind he believed himself to be, in actuality he was a cocky idiot with some really weird luck. Most of the time his luck was pretty crummy, often getting him into all sorts of bad situations that put life and limb at risk, but every now and then (typically when things were at their worst) Stephen's luck would suddenly turn around and he'd become the luckiest guy on the east coast; allowing him to escape from the messes he made without so much as a scratch on him. Stephen confused his luck for legitimate skill and he started getting bolder and taking more risks as time went on.

He made a decent living as a street hustler, rising up the ranks of the criminal underworld with his various schemes (although it was more akin to falling upwards in his case) and gaining a notable reputation on the streets of Chicago. Until one night, where his luck was particularly bad, Stephen wound up in the middle of a three way firefight between two rival gangs and the local police; all of whom desperately wanted him dead. After a long and cartoonish chase all over town where Stephen had several brushes with death, one of the gang leaders cornered him in a warehouse and fired a shot straight at his head. Stephen narrowly dodged out of the way only for the bullet to hit some explosive barrels inconveniently placed behind him and set off a massive fiery explosion that killed everyone inside the building...except for him.

Miraculously, Stephen emerged from the wreckage with only a few small burns to show for it and found a briefcase containing five hundred thousand dollars amongst the bodies. Now, a smart person would have immediately fled town after all that unpleasantness but Stephen was anything but smart. He decided to celebrate his survival and newfound fortune by going to a local disco club, where he was killed by a disco ball falling straight onto his head; crushing his skull and killing him near instantaneously. The con man had pushed his luck too far that night.

But upon arriving in Hell after his death, Stephen didn't let it get him down; wouldn't do him any good to sit around feeling sorry for himself. So he adjusted to his new reptilian form and picked right back up where he left off, trying to carve out a new life for himself in his new surroundings. If this was the hand life dealt him, he might as well play it!

Stephen spent the next thirty years or so having all sorts of misadventures in Hell, finding trouble or getting found by trouble, as a lone wolf. Until he met a shy little Pangolin sinner in serious need of a friendly face and struck up a partnership with them, earning the best friend he could ever hope to have.

Art by the amazing Beyond Expectations, you can find more of their art on twitter here: twitter.com/Pang0Mang0BA

or on their tumblrs here: www.tumblr.com/beyondexpectshe… and here: www.tumblr.com/beyondexpectsar…

Description
Stephen was born and raised on the rough side of Chicago during the 1950s all the way up until the day of his death in the 1970s. With his parents out of the picture for unknown reasons, the last time he saw them was during infancy, he was raised by his uncle; a used cars saleman that was as sleazy as they came. However, Stephen's uncle was an excellent parental figure who took care of the boy like he was his own son and taught him how to survive on the mean streets of their hometown with a sharp wit and a sliver tongue; the boxing lessons he got Stephen at the local rec center didn't hurt matters either.

Stephen took to those lessons like a duck to water and pretty soon he was running plenty of cons of his own, becoming the very definition of a smooth operator who could talk his way out of any bad situation and always stay three steps ahead of his enemies...or so he liked to think.

The truth is that Stephen wasn't the mastermind he believed himself to be, in actuality he was a cocky idiot with some really weird luck. Most of the time his luck was pretty crummy, often getting him into all sorts of bad situations that put life and limb at risk, but every now and then (typically when things were at their worst) Stephen's luck would suddenly turn around and he'd become the luckiest guy on the east coast; allowing him to escape from the messes he made without so much as a scratch on him. Stephen confused his luck for legitimate skill and he started getting bolder and taking more risks as time went on.

He made a decent living as a street hustler, rising up the ranks of the criminal underworld with his various schemes (although it was more akin to falling upwards in his case) and gaining a notable reputation on the streets of Chicago. Until one night, where his luck was particularly bad, Stephen wound up in the middle of a three way firefight between two rival gangs and the local police; all of whom desperately wanted him dead. After a long and cartoonish chase all over town where Stephen had several brushes with death, one of the gang leaders cornered him in a warehouse and fired a shot straight at his head. Stephen narrowly dodged out of the way only for the bullet to hit some explosive barrels inconveniently placed behind him and set off a massive fiery explosion that killed everyone inside the building...except for him.

Miraculously, Stephen emerged from the wreckage with only a few small burns to show for it and found a briefcase containing five hundred thousand dollars amongst the bodies. Now, a smart person would have immediately fled town after all that unpleasantness but Stephen was anything but smart. He decided to celebrate his survival and newfound fortune by going to a local disco club, where he was killed by a disco ball falling straight onto his head; crushing his skull and killing him near instantaneously. The con man had pushed his luck too far that night.

But upon arriving in Hell after his death, Stephen didn't let it get him down; wouldn't do him any good to sit around feeling sorry for himself. So he adjusted to his new reptilian form and picked right back up where he left off, trying to carve out a new life for himself in his new surroundings. If this was the hand life dealt him, he might as well play it!

Stephen spent the next thirty years or so having all sorts of misadventures in Hell, finding trouble or getting found by trouble, as a lone wolf. Until he met a shy little Pangolin sinner in serious need of a friendly face and struck up a partnership with them, earning the best friend he could ever hope to have.

Art by the amazing Beyond Expectations, you can find more of their art on twitter here: twitter.com/Pang0Mang0BA

or on their tumblrs here: www.tumblr.com/beyondexpectshe… and here: www.tumblr.com/beyondexpectsar…