This is where our wood chips are made. A few doors down in our complex are the offices of a lawn-care company, and they park their trucks behind our building every night. This teenager named Benjamin has to clean the woodchipper every day before he can go home, and he ends up with a large plastic lawn bag filled with wood chips. Right now, he waits until the building manager leaves, then chucks the bag into the complex’s dumpster, which he isn’t really supposed to do since it has this big sign on it that says, “No hazardous waste or lawn clippings.” Benjamin has agreed to give us the bags filled with wood chips as long as we don’t tell his boss, this sour-faced guy named Mel. That’s what we’ll use to fill the boxes for our Alternative Games. Benjamin will be happy, Mel will be happy and April, the chick who’s supposed to be managing the building and hasn’t figured out yet that she’s the fifth person to hold that job so far this year, well she’ll be happy, too.