[Freddy says in a nonchalant manner than contradicts the way his brow furrows as he sort of leans waaaay over to watch what Larry is doing without having to follow him. Yet.]
We're doing real well you know.
[He calls out to the old man as a reminder, as if he needs it.]
Oh yeah? I meant to count it two weeks ago. Did you?
[Bellowed over his shoulder. Out he comes with the pickle jar. Sometime they'll get a decent money holding object. Not a pig though. The irony is too fucking much if all the funding were shoved up into a pig. It is still pretty full, more coins than bills than it used to be.
Cash isn't food. And it sure doesn't seem fun to Mister Dog so he goes padding over to Freddy while Larry reaches in and starts to scoop out the funds.]
[A pickle jar is probably the most obvious hardly tactical place he's ever seen but hey Freddy had a lot of fun emptying out that thing. He turns his pockets inside out anyway, unloading some bills and coins. Not much, that's the verdict.]
You live with kings, dude.
[Freddy says to Mister Dog with a firm pat pat to his big old head.]
[A pickle jar in a closet is going to make noise if ever purloined. Also it was an excuse to get a big mess of pickles. That's an investment.]
Did you give me all you got?
[It's the true test to see where they stand. Gambling spoils cannot, in fact, last forever. The old man shifts in his seat and takes out his own money clip.]
Everything we got needs to be here right now so if you left any in your other pants...
[Big if.]
He only cares if we feed him. That makes us better than kings, we're gods. Gods of dinner.
[Is this a test? Really, Larry Dimick. Freddy sort of just gives him a look--wait! The kid gets up to grab a lunch box that happens to have a roll of arcade quarters in it. Sigh. He plunks it back down on the table.]
We're counting because we haven't made any money in awhile. I wanna know how much we got for now and how much longer we'll last without making some buying food, rent and other shit.
[Arcade rounds, cigarettes, certain dry clean items. Pissing it all away is a very easy, very common mistake.
Mister Dog agrees and hangs out somewhere close to Freddy's knees.]
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orangetoughguy) wrote2010-08-06 11:39 pm
no subject
[Freddy says in a nonchalant manner than contradicts the way his brow furrows as he sort of leans waaaay over to watch what Larry is doing without having to follow him. Yet.]
We're doing real well you know.
[He calls out to the old man as a reminder, as if he needs it.]
no subject
[Bellowed over his shoulder. Out he comes with the pickle jar. Sometime they'll get a decent money holding object. Not a pig though. The irony is too fucking much if all the funding were shoved up into a pig. It is still pretty full, more coins than bills than it used to be.
Cash isn't food. And it sure doesn't seem fun to Mister Dog so he goes padding over to Freddy while Larry reaches in and starts to scoop out the funds.]
Got anything in your pockets?
[His own will be emptied soon, kid!]
no subject
You live with kings, dude.
[Freddy says to Mister Dog with a firm pat pat to his big old head.]
no subject
Did you give me all you got?
[It's the true test to see where they stand. Gambling spoils cannot, in fact, last forever. The old man shifts in his seat and takes out his own money clip.]
Everything we got needs to be here right now so if you left any in your other pants...
[Big if.]
He only cares if we feed him. That makes us better than kings, we're gods. Gods of dinner.
no subject
[Is this a test? Really, Larry Dimick. Freddy sort of just gives him a look--wait! The kid gets up to grab a lunch box that happens to have a roll of arcade quarters in it. Sigh. He plunks it back down on the table.]
There.
no subject
[And getting a result. He frees up a hand to give the kid a good double pat to the shoulder.]
Thanks. You can have it back in a minute.
[More than a minute. He's counting all this shit. To prove his point, he starts with the roll.]
Fuck ton of change.
no subject
[SHRUG. Right, Mister Dog? Freddy looks at the big lug for some agreement.]
Why are we counting? What's up? What are you buying?
[The interrogation begins.]
no subject
[Arcade rounds, cigarettes, certain dry clean items. Pissing it all away is a very easy, very common mistake.
Mister Dog agrees and hangs out somewhere close to Freddy's knees.]