orangetoughguy | logging iv

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.]

[Brown eyes squint at him. Most experience. Right on the tail of sass. And such a gracious compliment. He sees this clever kid. Oh does he.]

That's something we need to really sit on. If we don't make money we're stuck with it. I don't want that.

[A job, job that is. He didn't give up a typical life to go have one once again.]

[Heh heh heh.]

It's Mexico.

[Freddy counters without much explanation because in his mind Mexico probably has less restrictions on leases, renting, abandonment, etc. etc. Again he's not classist....just....realistic....or something. A true American.]

....Meaning what? It don't matter? It'd still be wasted money on our part. Money we could need.

[Lawrence Dimick isn't about to have them be destitute. Fuck though they could nearly be there. Who is he trying to protect here? Freddy from poverty or his own sense of comfort.

Smoke rolls out of his nostrils. They pass a cart selling corn roasted right on the grill.]

logging iv

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