By Andrew Boyd
Adam was a couple of days old, but looked as if he was about eighteen. More importantly, however, he was a piece of shit. Not literally of course; Adam was human, but a spoiled one that was given anything he ever could need. But he always wanted more, and always thought of himself first. Adam never wore clothes, but if he lived today he would wear angsty torn jeans, a faded graphic t-shirt, and a Justin Bieber-esque haircut. In other words, he was that kind of person.