orangetoughguy | logging iv

[Phhthtbhhtb! Snort. The kid shakes his head after making some kind of noise of disbelief.]

I'm not a pimp. Do I look like a pimp? Jesus.

[Freddy shakes his head.] Can I play something besides a pimp?

[He asks in incredulous but hushed tones, to keep the conversation to himself. Little does Larry know once upon a time Freddy had this same kind of conversation with Holdaway.]

No. Y'don't look like a pimp.

[Even though he can definitely hustle all on his own. That's for Larry and Larry alone. The delivery seems pretty good so far. Still. Caution, old man.]

You can, you sure can. I'm asking though how do we want to go about this before it gets out of our hands. We got a choice right here, right now on where we don't wanna end up.

[A choice to run, like any gambler. And more than that.]

I don't wanna be dealing anything I wanna take.

..........

[..........Sorry, old man, you're going to have to be way more explicit. Sometimes the kid just prefers to have it straight (when it works in his favor).]

Spit it out, Larry.

I think we should lay out things we explicitly won't do before things get too heavy and it's too late. Use the precious time we got to plan now.

[That sound neutral and reasonable? He means it to!]

What will you be willing to do?

No drugs.

[Freddy says without missing a beat.]

No dealing drugs?

[To be perfectly explicit.]

Would MJ count?

[In the back of his mind he remembers this very enthusiastic character weaving a story in a bar. He's no Joe the Pot man and he sure as hell never was.]

Pharmaceuticals maybe. Which Mary Jane is not.

[Freddy clarifies. But what else can they do?]

No scamming little old ladies.

No scamming poor people.

[The kid counts off on his fingers like a real hardcore rough and tumble criminal type.]

[Pharmaceuticals are fun, he thinks idly but instead just nods. Fun but not coke. That's even better.]

No MJ. No old or poor.

[Parroting is what he tries to fall active listening.]

On both counts, you can't bleed a stone.

[Freddy rubs his own chin in thought.] I guess that leaves....

[Knocking off rich assholes. Knocking off criminal assholes. Knocking off assholes who probably knocked off someone else to get their riches. Or the stock market. Or more poker games. Or...]

....Security....

[He says with a mild air of distaste. Freddy Newendyke is no rent-a-cop.]

Security is a step.

[He says with confidence except killing has to be in the mix. A lid on that for a few more moments because the kid hasn't ruled out killing....for pay.

Larry wasn't born yesterday. He knows that is going to be another no.]

It'd be a start. I know how it works. I did it remember.

[Is that a snarl?]

A driver too.

[Freckled hands move on outward in his golden flappy way. Hey where did the ice cream cone go?? Down a bear maw completely??]

I'm an excellent driver.

[No. Not completely but he is having another taste. Those hands are free to fly.]

That I know.

[No distaste there for driving. The old bear hasn't made the connection with a rent a cop to security. At least not yet. It's not being a cop that's for damn sure.]

It's a bankable skill for the both of us at this point. People confide in drivers. Get advice.

Okay. So. I'm a driver.

[Freddy says in a tone that implies 'that settles that, but what's next?'] I'm still gonna need a suit won't I?

[SIGH.]

Y'could be a driver.

[For lack of an ice cream and a little more to go on it seems pretty much a let down even to his own ears. Larry pat pats Freddy's shoulder.]

Or I could be a driver. They need mechanics too. Discrete no question types.

[Which the younger man could be, he thinks.]

...a driver should have a suit. You're right on the ball there.

You think I can fix cars for a criminal fleet?

[Be a fleet mechanic for the bad guys. In a way the kid would still feel guilty if a car was used to mow down a family. It's a tough choice. Of course so's being on the run.]

I dunno...it's a lot to think about.

[Because it sounds like a day job is out of the question. What about running a place where criminal activities happen...but by his rules?? Newendyke you gotta start somewhere.]

Maybe. Why not?

[Fuck. There he goes again. What did he do to make it a not so cool opportunity? The old bear is only looking out for the both of them. In doing that he's only thinking about their direct well being. If it is making bedfellows with criminals well, they're already half way there, ain't they?]

I know. We gotta start trying to think of where to go from here.

[Touchy lot to think about. Larry rubs his chin.]

A suit would be an investment one way or the other.

What makes you think you can get a real nice suit here? This ain't exactly Rodeo Drive.

[Freddy says, turning his focus onto the shopping rather than the particulars of how they plan to pay the rent in these parts. And no he's not classist!! He just doesn't know better...!!]

Thanks. I wasn't sure of that.

[Lip for you there kid. The old man turns and squints remembering what direction they came from.]

You gotta wear it like it's from Rodeo Drive. That's the key. Also a tie pin and some cuffs make a big change. Something to catch attention and pull it from the rest of the shit. I now we'll be able to get some quality pieces like that here easily enough.

..........

[Snort. Was that really necessary? If Freddy had fox ears they'd be flicking with disinterest. Fff.]

I kinda think you just wanna dress me.

[Lip for lip, old man. Tit for tat.]

So what if I do?

[Larry starts walking. Sniff and snort. He's not gonna let this one go. The kid has had his ice cream. A few fun things for home. He's very convinced that this will be helpful. It was so much easier to coerce him into dressing up if food was involved.]

You'd get something out of it. Money eventually. Besides, might end up liking it. Ever think of that?

[He paws his pockets for some cigarettes.]

Did I say I'd never like it? You're makin' shit up.

[Freddy gives a big old shrug like he just didn't spend the last ten minutes making up excuses for not needing or downplaying the importance of a monkey suit. Of course he heels at the bear's stride too.]

You're a pain in the ass sometimes.

[He likes it. No, he loves it. Larry lights up his cigarette and keeps them moving.]

The other option in all this mess is we find something on our own we can make money off of. It's clear as day we don't need no licensing or shit. Not if we got money to cover our asses.

[Except between the two of them, what on earth do they have to offer in services. That is the unknown.]

Gotta keep you on your toes somehow.

[Heh heh heh. There's an innuendo in there. Heh. The kid raises his wiry arms for a biiiiig foxy stretch.]

I don't know how to wait tables.

[He could learn, but does Freddy or Larry really want to?]

Fuck, you think I do?

[A thoughtful puff, puff.]

Not just a restaurant. Maybe we could make money off of a liquor store or a smoke shop. People need those. Those seem like they have a pretty good income to start. We'd work our way up. Two shops or something.

[Spoiler: while always being a very loyal man, Mr. White has never been the mastermind for big time heists. Big time life planning? Well, maybe he could be better at that.]

You're the one with the most experience here.

[Freddy oh so casually remarks with not a single reference to Larry's age. Heh heh heh. He nods acknowledging these other suggestions though, legitimate ones. Nothing unlawful about a liquor store. In fact the very thought of confronting a hold up with his own shotgun tickles the kid's (former) cop fancy.]

It'd pay the rent, I think.

[He says, words of encouragement.]

logging iv

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