Jameson Farthing and Conway Fripple are lost deep underneath Thursday City. They have been wandering around down there for years. They have become an urban legend in Thursday City, but they merely want to return to the Boggy Swamp of Swampy Bogginess. While playing with some friends after school one day they climbed into the catacombs on a dare. That was three years ago. Since then they have managed to live on rats, mildew, and sewer gators. Every time a sewage worker, electrical engineer, or graffiti writer comes across them their cries for help are misperceived as threatening growls sending said interloper in the opposite direction as fast as can be. Can monsters be blamed that we humans have long since neglected their culture and forgotten their complex and sublime language? Is it their fault that what is melodious to them is horrifying to us? Monsters have a rich canon of poetry that has been lost to human minds because of our reactionary xenophobia. Jameson and Conway have also been lost because of it. Well, because of that and their youthful impetuosity.