Trimethylamine

TMA is a case of distilled chaos unto himself. He's rude, slippery, reeks of dead fish just like his namesake, and has a bit of a relaxed relationship with the truth, but he's also extremely principled where it counts. Rules, whether of law or social convention, don't seem to enter TMA's brain at all. Whether he hides fish in the curtain rods and couch cushions of philandering politicians, headbutts a feral goat that's been headbutting children in the neighborhood, or sets a series of small fires around the building of a hate group's headquarters, TMA is a whirlwind you have to admire even if you hate him. He's locked people in his basement who owed him money, he's assaulted his neighbors with pizza dough, and fighting gators seems to be his favorite pastime... next to fighting people with gators as weapons.

He's armed, he's dangerous, and his diet would make any hawaiian-shirt-wearing, yellow-sunglassed, typewriter-carrying journalist proud. TMA is not the kind of being you want to experience up close, but oh boy is it fun to watch the trainwreck from as great a distance as possible. He's a near-mythic figure in the South of Sornieth, known simply as...

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