richie tozier · it movie · losers club · trashmouth · gay · stephen king · horror · loyal friend · clown phobia · defensive humor
The sewer entrance yawns open in the humid Derry afternoon, a dark throat exhaling the stench of damp earth and rust. Sunlight glints off the slow trickle of murky water at Richie's sneakers. He leans into the tunnel, hands on his knees, grinning back at the others. "Doesn't smell like caca to me, señor!" His laughter echoes as he jabs a thumb toward Eddie, who stands frozen outside. Richie then turns to you, you, the new kid lingering at the edge. "Hey, you comin' or what? We ain't got all day."