orangetoughguy | log post II

[Does a veiled request count for anything? Out of anyone else's hearing distance, he tells the old man.]

I wanna hear you put on an accent.

[Something that would fit floating on the blackwater under a Mississippi moon. If Freddy has to be involved he may as well get something out of it. And up go the glasses to wear his shades like a headband holding back hair in need of a trim. Freddy never wears his hair or his glasses like this, ever, so...it's a good move right?]

[The old man takes a look back at him. Well. Why the hell not. This is for educational purposes.]

Y'got it, pardner.

[Oh and they're up. Larry puts on his best smile for the teller. Her hair is in something close to a beehive. In fact she looks something like Mrs. Brady.]

Good afternoon ma'am. Ah'd laik open an' account with y'all.

[Not too loud and boisterous. Real easy like.]

[The accent coming out of Larry's mouth is too fucking smooth and too fucking easy on the ears. It strikes a chord in the kid who has to keep his hands busy by twirling a pen, that potentially annoying thing where the ballpoint just flips and flips between his knuckles. Better than doing a knuckle shuffle in public, honestly. Oh yeah have some manners Newendyke, that way they don't recognize you out of costume.]

Hi.

[Wow, pure Shakespeare. It doesn't matter anyway, Mrs. Brady who wears her title on her ring finger is giving Lawrence Dimick the eye. It's a pleased to meet you, sir kind of eye.]

Now, I gotta check here. That good for a start?

[Oh yes. He's very attentive, very polite. Mrs. Brady happily gives him the paperwork to sign here and here.]

Here I was thinkin' it'd be hard. [He chuckles good natured. Sheer confidence that the checks are going to go through. From where they stand, they pass the test with Mrs. Brady she's only looking at the numbers, the date. The machines they'll take it to will be another question. By that time Mr. Hex and Mr. Pecos will be long gone.]

You'll be sendin' my card by post?

[The woman is twisting her ring here and there. She's tempted. It almost incenses the kid while simultaneously inducing an erection. Shit keep it cool Newendyke. You've seen Lawrence Dimick work his magic before, why's this any different? Oh right, because they're fucking each other exclusively now so he's entitled to be possessive. If only on the inside because it's still their secret.]

Thanks, m'am.

[Freddy says...in his best Tarpey Village voice. They're just two business associates as far as she ought to be concerned. Man why's it easier to get in with a bunch of crooks than it is for him to pretend being Jonah Pecos to Mrs. Brady? Oh right, because Larry's distracting him.]

[Tells like the ring twisting, the way she's touching her neck even a little tells him that he's doing an excellent job. It's nothing big and overt. Just smiles, eye contact and being polite.]

That all it takes? Sure is easier than I thought.

[He touches the top of Mrs. Brady's hand as she slips his copy of the paperwork through the opening in the glass.]

Been a real pleasure, Ma'am. Greatly appreciate it. We'll be a-comin' back here. Won't we?

[That one is fir you, Jonah. Your partner's a-talkin' to you.]

What? Oh yeah.

[Freddy nods, regaining his wits again. Shit Larry why you gotta make this difficult with that amount of smoothness? It's like he's practically slippery. No Newendyke, don't start thinking along those lines, it's bad for your health when you can't whip it out. Somehow the kid manages to keep his composure though, unlike Mrs. Brady he's not revealing any tells. The shades plop down.]

Have a nice day, m'am. [He adds with a closed-lipped smile.]

[Bill pats Jonah on the back and they make for the door. Cool, calm and slow. No rush here. Down home folks like them aren't very quick to move as it is.]

Y'all right?

[There's a smile for you kid. Larry gets the door so the kid can pass on through. Is it his imagination or is the kid looking a little shaken?]

I'm--[What do down home folks say instead of cool?]--peachy keen.

[Maybe not that, Newendyke. Hey at least he's taking his time to step out of there with Lawrence Dimick. Whew. Coast is clear. Wait what? Shades drop down just enough for green eyes to peer out over the top rim. Why would he ask that? No really why? The kid's denying knowing exactly why. Goddamn blackwater.]

I'm fine.

Look like you seena ghost.

[Or somethin'. Larry decides to keep the accent rolling. Why? Because he can. Freddy asked for it.]

Y'know Ah'm feelin' rather parched. Hows about we ahead on over t'some waterin' hole fer a spell.

......... [Green eyes narrow as he pushes those shades back up to cover his freckled face.] White as a fuckin' sheet huh?

[He replies, dropping his own accent because he really doesn't have it in him to keep up the act. One thing about Mr. Orange was that deep down the guy was just an extension of himself. Freddy has no extension of Tarpey Village in him. He tucks his hands in his pockets.]

Sure, if you're payin'. [He tilts a smug look that-a-way at Bill Hex.]

Maybe snow.

[Shrug. Well, since he's already in the accent, why roll out of it so soon. Besides, it's because he's a cowboy fan. There shouldn't be any surprise.]

Sure, fella. Ya gotta answer one thing for me. What didja learn t'day?

[Oh it doesn't surprise him at all. It's the effectiveness that comes as a surprise, but really Freddy should've seen it coming. As for this question, again green eyes have to narrow behind those Clubmasters. Part of him thinks it's a legit inquiry, another part that it's a trick, and another part that feels it's a legit inquiry that happens to have tricky perks.]

I learned... [He keeps his volume low enough just for the two of them.] That if I jumped your dick in the middle of a bank, we'd get only two angles for the money shot.

Only two. Right y'are.

[A chuckle starts. Stops. Then bubbles up again as he shakes his head.]

That kinda thirsty huh? I can't go an' wet your whistle here. I reckon we can find some place that'll work.

[Though in the bank? That's a thought worth revisiting again and again. Bill Hex keeps a move on.]

Tell me what else y'learn t'day?

[The laughing doesn't faze him one bit nor does it make Freddy break 'character' so to speak.]

What happened to really good eatin'? Thought you'd treat me to some real swank. Am I too dirty to deserve it?

[He's still playing a part, he asks with a faked tone of seriousness...unless Larry really would consider Freddy too uncouth and downright crass for a nice establishment. That'd be both an insult and a compliment, go figure.]

I learned you didn't just get lucky. [For once that is not a euphemism. Lawrence Dimick is a fucking professional.] Not that I needed today to figure that out. I always knew.

Naw. Ah didn't say that now. Man's gotta keep his word. Figured you'd wanna drink s'all.

[Larry hooks his thumbs into his own belt loops.]

Y'should be careful talkin' laik that. Sure could rile a man.

[They're fucking around too much for Larry to tell whether or not it all worked out as he planned it. Later then he'll see.]

Let's goin' an' getcha cleaned up then.

Lucky for me you're no man. [ZING. No actually he has a follow up to this because he loves Larry too much to leave it at that.] You're a tough guy.

[Getting cleaned up? Sure why not. His shrug is nonchalant but the look behind green eyes? Very interesting indeed.] Okay, you're pretty good at that too.

[That there is a very quick save. Good show, Newendyke. You had him going there.]

Then Ah'll be teachin' ya to shave all on yer own.

[Since they're heading back. Since Freddy may need it for that polished look. Why is that suddenly relevant? Uh. Larry's not sure. But he does need to know how. Right? Right.

Larry gives Freddy's shoulder a push in the right direction.]

Wow, that was intense. [The kid says as the credits role all over a bunch of dead Persians. Intense action sequences and fight choreography of course. Spartans never looked better.] And I'm not the biggest Frank Miller fan or anything either.

[Yep, because a comic book origin has everything to do with Freddy's appreciation for this film. He looks over at Larry. What'd you think old man?]

I'd see that one again.

[Holy shit. Everything about it. The women. The men. The action and the action. Larry leans forward to finish off his beer.]

When you explained it, it didn't sound as good.

[Don't hurt him for being honest.]

There's an old film called 300 Spartans. I was thinkin' of that.

We can rewind it.

[Freddy says out of habit even though this is one of those sweet little DVD things. Some terms you just can't get out of even when you know how to use modern technology. With regards to the honesty, fff after seeing those guys kicking the crap out of each other who cares that Larry didn't immediately think it was going to be awesome? What counts is that he thinks it's awesome now.]

That movie's the same story, that shit happened in real life.

[The kid explains like maybe the old man doesn't know it really did but even if he did know it, well, Freddy just likes to talk at length about irrelevant things. Like movies based on comic books based on historical events with tons of liberty inbetween.]

Maybe tomorrow.

[Watch it again. This time paying more attention to detail. Speaking of detail though he doesn't bat a fucking eye at Freddy calling it rewind. That's what it is, ain't it? It's gotta work like a turntable in there since it's round.]

Yeah? I thought they were saying shit. You know the Alamo really happened. Folks remember that.

[The old man is on his feet to avoid any physical harm for that one.]

Want another beer?

[........Freddy actually gives Larry a look but the old man is out of reach before he can give him a shove. Fff.]

Yeah yeah, throw me a Corona.

[After a movie like that a Corona with lime sounds like a good chaser. Now he looks around the place, finally he's able to pay attention to something other than abdominal muscles.] Sam. [A short whistle.] Hey buddy, you want grapes?

[Silence. Not even a croak. Normally the toucan would be swooping right in for the G-word.]

Sure thing.

[Clink, clink of empty bottles and cans. Hum de dum to the fridge he goes. After seeing all that young rippling flesh the old man will pass up on another beer but will get the Corona and lime.]

You know I'm starting to think that he's getting fat.

[The bird. Not the kid. Larry's slicing up that lime now.]

You don't get fat on fruit.

[Freddy says like a true spoiling pet owner skeptic. Of course he's not one to talk, being lean on a diet of who knows what out of the can. Larry's not so bad either even with a minor spare something such left over from the winter. With the amount of muscle he has who cares to quibble? Not this kid.]

Hey Sam? Sam? [He's peering over the couch, under the table, in the usual bird's favored places.] Where are you, dude?

log post II

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