whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[There he goes a-fucking-gain. Like all weasels they've gotta burrow and burrow whether for shelter or to look for something worth it.

So far Larry is not liking how this outing is going right, straight to the shitter. This is not how it should be at all.]

Not all women are cows. Calling em that is a surefire way to keep from knowing much about them.

[He drinks deeply of his bottle.]

I mean, it's the holidays already. I was thinking we should celebrate the American way. They've got some good skin clubs around here. We should make a night of it. Unless Pink wants to be the chef.

Barnyard metaphors ain't gonna get you much farther in that department

[Hey whatdya know, Mr. White's riding the same train of thought. Freddy looks from him to Pink, much the way he does when he dares the weasel to refute the old man. On the cow account and being a chef instead of a titty chaser account. Whew.]

It's a fucking metaphor, you illiterate assholes.

[Shrug]

You tell me the place, you're the security detail.

[Well okay he has met some people on the Network but he doesn't really know them. Best not carry this out much further tonight anyway, best to wear it down slowly]

Try explaining that to any lady who hears it. I dare you.

[He feels more at ease to laugh again at least.]

I know a few, since it's a special occasion I think that the Prancing Pony would be the ticket. The drinks are pricey, but the over all experience is worth it.

[Larry reaches into his shirt pocket for cigarettes. This has told him that he'll need to be more on guard, if anything paying more attention to the small details.

Though there is this nagging notion about how easily Freddy delivered his end of the news about the ring. It could very well be he doesn't want to go over any personal history with Pink. Can anyone blame him? Not that he's really a weasel through and through, but he's not a person to go toting your baggage. That is something that Larry recalls with great detail from the warehouse. Being distraught about a dying comrade is not worth it to this man Pink.]

If you stopped fucking around with books, Mr. Literate, you might actually get to know a warm form or two.

[This is what they call shooting the shit, all in good humor despite the underlying need to hide what can't be aired out in public. Of course, this includes the wife talk too, didn't Pink hear Joe lay out the rules? And if he's the kind of guy to say fuck the rules--which Freddy knows he kind of is--then Mr. Orange can fondle whatever the hell he wants until he's reunited with a wife who doesn't even exist. That's his secret. Now he turns his attention to Larry.]

Prancing Pony, really? Are we still playin' the metaphor game? [He sips his beer, not about to call White a stallion where Pink can hear him.]

The minute you get to know them, it's too involved for me. One woman, one night, no fucking romance.

[Look it works okay? And really, Pink doesn't give a shit who Orange fucks or doesn't fuck, except that he thinks that he and White are fucking and he doesn't like the idea of being lied to or played for an asshole. Especially if one of them is a rat]

If it's worth it, do you really give a shit about the name?

Too involved? What if it is a good, good fuck. You're denying yourself the right of getting that on tap all of the time.

[And that ain't bad. Call him bias, but he can't find a fault in that. Sometimes it gets better even. This only affirms that Mr. Pink is unsentimental, impersonal and likely will never get a steady lay. No wonder he's so fucking high strung.

As for green eyes, Larry puffs his cigarette a few drags before replying.]

I didn't name it. And no, it isn't a metaphor. Once inside it doesn't matter at all what it's called.

I'm sure you and your hand love each other.

[Speaking of hands, tit for tat to Pink. If Orange could read minds he'd be in full agreement on Pink being high strung because he can't get a steady lay. Because he can't he'll just nod in agreement over Larry's assessment of getting a piece of ass on tap all the time. It's fucking great.]

Okay okay it's better than Widow's Lair or whatever.

[Have a shrug here. That kind of sounds like a fetish club now that the kid thinks about it, not that he's ever been active in that scene. Ahem, he sips his beer.]

What, you interested in details, kid?

[Said with a slight monotone. His needs are his business, especially as they don't potentially botch up a job]

I'm just saying it's easier to not have someone dangling around your neck. If you see them and forget 'em, they're not likely to want details like names and serial numbers.

Careful, Orange. I think he'd actually tell you in vivid detail.

[The game of chicken rolls on and on. He'll need more beer.]

It's how you pick em, Pink. You can have as much attachment as you want if you're in control of the situation.

[White shrugs and taps ash off of his Chesterfield. No double meanings are intended at all. Really.]

Are both of you in for Thursday or what? I'd be happy to go myself.

[To Pink he rolls a casual:] Fuck off.

[Then the kid gives White a shuddering look. God he doesn't want any detail on anything like that ever. Back to the women and strip clubs though...]

Or have enough money to blow. [Freddy takes a cool drag.] I'll go, ain't no reason to let you get greedy with all the pussy.

[Orange is super cool about the way he talks.]

I'll go. Made a tidy profit the other day.

[Use your imaginations, boy. This man is a professional thief, okay?]

Yeah? Well, about time. Now you got play money. May as well enjoy it, right?

[Spend some at the titty bar and he'll see how it goes from there. Pink will cool it, acclimate and maybe leave them alone. Of course they're gonna stay in contacted. The digging isn't going to let up, he's got a feeling of that.]

Doin' what?

[Yeah, Orange dares to ask because Pink here has the balls to prod into his private life.]

[He finishes his beer. Like hell he's going to hurry for this kid's sake, but he looks so insufferably smug]

What do you think? People around here are bad at keeping track of their wallets full of play money.

[Larry signals for the bartender. Pink needs another one.]

You mean that's it?

[For all the big talk on professionalism, that's all that he does? That's kids stuff. Mr. White holds his tongue.]

That's small time.

[He retorts the same thing on Larry's mind before sipping.]

I mean even for you, you know?

Yeah? Well, small time got me enough money to pay for my fucking rent and food for the next month in an afternoon, motherfuckers.

[He finishes his drink]

I'd like to see you make that much in three hours doing what you do.

You must have hit some old ladies hard.

[White crushes his cigarette in the ash tray. For a moment he looks at the slim man, incredulous. But hitting the right kind of people, you never know.]

There are ways of getting a bigger pay off. I'm just surprised. You're a fucking professional.

You're so full of shit.

[He says this plainly to Pink. Unlike White, the kid doesn't hold this other guy in higher regard. Larry's a fucking veteran, Pink's a peer.]

Of course there are bigger ways. I'm not a fucking idiot. But it's not like I can lift and go somewhere else if a job goes to shit.

[You know. Like someone made the job go to shit back home.]

And you, Orange, are a fucking idiot. So it all evens out.

Thanksgiving's going to be just like home. Damn.

[With the bitching and carrying on, just add booze with a bit of tit and ass. He's going to stay out of it for now.]

So it's agreed. Everyone's gonna pay their own way. Should we shoot for the day time? The evening? I'm certain it'll be open.

[Out comes the middle finger just for Pink. Look Orange can do it with the same hand holding his cigarette before taking a pull too. Now that's skill.]

Evening, I probably have work to do.

[He looks between the two but mostly at White, Larry. Does the old guy want to spend the entire day at the titty bar? Now that Freddy minds, just curious.]

Yeah, whatever. Eight. No sense in getting to a skin place much earlier than that.

[Unless you want to look like a loser.]

Good then. I don't foresee it being crowded. Though hard to tell. I know there's a fat lot of Orientals. I don't think it's there day.

[Beer gone on his end? Alright. More Samuel Adams. No, he doesn't want to spend the whole day there. Though it wouldn't hurt to be open to options. Who turns down a titty bar? A faggot that's who.

Anyway though, a new beer in hand everything is rolling smoothly.]

I bet the Chinese New Year is a big deal here.

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