Evan Dunlap Character Analysis

Evan Dunlap by all accounts is not your average man. He is good-looking, sharply dressed, and is witty to the point where he was simply unforgettable, unless of course he wants you to forget him. Growing up, Evan has always been stronger than his size lets on, he’s taller than your average man, and there is a charisma about him that naturally seems to draw people to him. Most guys who know Evan want to be him and all the ladies wanted to be with him. Evan has the uncanny ability to always know what to say and when to say it, the art of persuasion he had mastered at a very young age. Luck you could call his best friend, as loyal as they come. Yes, Evan Dunlap is like no other man on earth—because Evan Dunlap is no man at all. Evan Dunlap is

A gift of being able to create havoc wherever he went or whenever he just wanted to be entertained. Nothing could put a smile on Evan’s face faster than manipulating people into letting their ugliest side come out. He had a way about him that lowered people’s inhibitions in his presence. Vibes he naturally emitted that worked to create an environment where people were all too eager to hand him their cool. He is a snake charmer of men, his hypnosis allowing even the slightest annoyance a person had to boil over and come rushing up to the surface in an explosion of hate and impromptu

Other people who also found enjoyment in such debauchery were always Evan’s kind of people. He felt a kinship with them. A natural comfort he could not explain. The more fucked up they were, the more he liked them. And they naturally loved him. One knows this kind of run-and-gun lifestyle doesn’t come cheap. Money was a commodity Evan needed a lot of, and fortunately for him it wasn’t hard to find. Whenever he needed to score a little cash it was as simple as stopping off at any corner store. “What will it be today, Evan. You prick.” “I love how it just chaps your ass that I get to come into this shit hole you call a store and walk out with a fist full of cash while your grease ball ass has to sit here all day selling loosey’s and malt liquor to the local derelicts for a living,” Evan said smiling. His coral-white teeth making him look even more debonair. Placing his newspaper on the counter, the store owner looked deeply at Evan as he scratched his thick stubble that was graying near his sideburns. “I got a tip from a buddy of mine this morning,” the store owner said. “The sixth race at Calder, Sheppard’s Moon, the number eight horse. Morning line has him at ten to