whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

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.

You know the money you tuck into a pair of panties is a girl's tip, right?

[He ain't trying to talk Pink out of it or anything, just being a jerk. As for Chinese New Year...he looks at White.]

That ain't til the end of January [In case anyone wanted to know, at least for 93. He won't say it's going to be the year of the cock--er...rooster.] You know they ain't all Chinese, right?

I consider a tip-worthy job. She's not a fucking waitress.

[Hey, you were ready to get your dollar back, asshole. He lights up his own cigarette, now that his beer is gone]

What the fuck is this, cultural sensitivity training?

Lemme get this straight, tipping a woman who dances is acceptable whereas a waitress it's not worth it.

[And who can forget the original spin. Larry can't. That was the talk they had all together before everything turned to a flaming ball of bullshit. Let's keep everything in perspective though, right? Look who is here. Look who is alive.]

I'm sure not all of em are Chinese. I dunno what Japanese celebrate or I dunno, other types. There are always plenty of Chinese though.

Walk into a yakuza bar and say that, lemme know if you get to walk out or gotta crawl out.

[He says this to Pink casually before turning to White again. Yeah it is a lot like the morning before everything went to hell, but if everything hadn't gone to hell well...Freddy tries not to think about that often.]

It's an excuse for fireworks and red packets. [He'll concede that.]

If it makes you feel better, I don't tip them unless I think they're really into it.

[He says this because he knows it won't make White feel better. He's a dick that way]

What the fuck do you know about yakuza bars?

What more do you want when clearly they put themselves out there? They're not gonna suck your dick for nothing.

[Seriously, look at him? The old man shakes his head and chugs more beer. Women and Asians. What the hell.]

Unless they start talking, I have a hard time telling one from the other. You can't be right every time. Hell, I think they believe all white folk are the same.

I've been up and down California my entire life.

[Yes, Freddy thinks that makes him an authority on Asians, at least compared to these two guys and don't kid yourself, Pink. Freddy can tell when people aren't originally from the area, whether it's because they like the Brewers or because they just don't talk like Californians. Time for a second cigarette and a second beer.]

Unless you got some kind of Highlander or Viking in you within the last hundred years we kind of are the same. Fucking Americans.

[Ain't it great?]

I bet White does.

[Turn the teasing on White a little]

Bullets fly faster than axes, you know.

[Easy and cool, because it ain't no thing. If he really wanted to knock you on your ass, Pink. He would.]

[Really Pink? Really? He just looks from Larry to Pink and waits, anticipating some smart ass reply from the weasel for it.]

You know from experience?

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know. Lighter, faster. I could give you a demonstration. Wait a little bit. I'm almost done.

[Larry holds his glass and gives it a shake to get a visual of how close he is to finishing the beer off. Gonna try him, Pink?]

I gotta put my money on Mr. White.

[Siiiiiip. He puffs on his cigarette too.]

Yeah? Wag your tail faster, Yeller.

[okay, maybe that was a little low. He turns to White.]

All right, all right. I got you.

[Sorry, Freddy. He's not going to comment on that. Defending it immediately would betray that he knew about their prior conversation about the kid's dog like qualities.

But this is not escaping his notice at all. Just another bit of evidence that Pink is not letting up. Fuck.]

Just as well. I left my ax at home.

[Okay he's a little taken aback that Pink would say it in public. Just a little. It's all right though because Freddy's already told Larry about this conversation. No surprises. Don't act too surprised though. Smoke blows that-a-way oh so coolly.]

Just tellin' you the odds like I see'em.

[What do they call a guy who bluffs his way through faggot chicken when he's really sucking cock anyway?]

[Pink didn't expect much more than that, really. Or at least he hoped, because this shit here is at the very least entertaining. He shrugs, which pretty much suggests that he agrees with Orange.]

[Hard to tell what he expects at all. And let us say, hypothetically, that something could be revealed. What then? Would it be a gambling chip?]

That reminds me, there was this one day where people were chopping off heads with swords.

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