pinkeffinprofessional

[Pink should get his eyes checked neither Orange nor White are horny, prepubescent Italians. He doesn't need to bother glaring. Is this how you treat the people who are trying to get you help?

Forget for a second that one of them did it. The point is that it looks like he's not going to again. Larry pats Freddy's shoulder, the uninjured arm. Seeing the beige wrist brace reminds him that the party is over. He'll take it off the first chance he gets. Contact made, he keeps a grip. Amazing how coherent the kid is. What the fuck.]

Hang in there, Pink. Help's on the way. Your gun is away, right? [So that when he approaches with Freddy at his side there won't be two asses on a gurney.]

Edited 2011-01-23 06:20 (UTC)

[Pink's hands shake when he flips the safety and tucks his gun away]

Fuck.

[Said because he's in pain, okay]

Give me a fucking cigarette.

[He has no intention of giving anyone any reason for him to ride on a gurney thanks. Freddy stays disarmed, diffused so to speak though by all technicality the bomb's already gone off, there's just no danger of a secondary blast. Not really.]

Here.

[Freddy offers Pink one of his marlboros, lit just for him. It's hard to tell if he's being completely and apologetically sincere or trying to remain in cruise control. Why no one else has tried to take him down in that bowling alley is a mystery...aside from the threat of being bullet ridden.]

[Larry isn't at ease. Sure it's much better to deal with this fractured calm than gunfire, but bombs can cause dangerous chain reactions. Shit that's been shaken loose can fall, break. All kinds of unpleasantness.]

I can move you to the bench.

[Let's not volunteer Freddy up for anything other than cooperating. The wound can't be that deep if Pink is asking for a smoke. The old man kneels carefully at the weasel's side.]

We need a more complete story. He had an episode, a seizure...something.

[Larry's no good at this, he's a hit and run kind of man. Someone else is good for the brains.]

[He takes a long drag and the cigarette trembles between his thin, weasel lips. He takes it with his shaking hand]

Fuck, fuck, don't move me.

Don't move him. If the medics are comin' over let him stay where he is. Hurts like a bitch to move.

[He's talking from experience, this kid. As for a story...fuck what does someone say to cover this up? Before he can rethink his words they just come out.]

Tell them I'm recovering from opiate addiction. You don't wanna press charges but if anyone comes around I got blood samples to corroborate the story.

Got it. [The kid is after all, a resident expert on the gut wound. There's blood, not as much as what was at the warehouse. Then again Freddy was stuck there for some time. A smoke sounds like a brilliant plan. Chesterfield at is lips, maybe his brains will work better.

Wait a fucking--All he can do is look at Freddy. Does he want to do that? Inhale, exhale.]

Let's not offer up too much from the get go.

I'm not....

[A wince and a pause]

Telling anyone shit until I can fucking bitchslap you myself, you asshole.

[The last bit is directed at Orange. But the unsaid words are we stick together for now.]

[Green eyes flick a look over to the old man then he just nods once, acknowledging maybe providing blood and urine samples is going above and beyond the call of duty. Larry would know better about this kind of thing, the last drug test Freddy took was mere protocol for being a cop. Especially an undercover kind.]

We'll talk about it.

[This Orange promises to Pink even though he already knows the guy means it, the next time they see each other he'll probably get bitchslapped.]

[Maybe? No maybe. It is. They're cops. Or there could be cops because they were out and about listening in on, wanting to check it out. They get addresses for contact. They'd want IDs. Dimick doesn't want it at all.] It was an accident. We want to get his room number ASAP. That's it. Just....look concerned.

[Is that a stretch?]

Okay, okay, whatever.

[He takes a huffing breath]

Got a fake ID....in my wallet but don't give it unless they make you.

You're gonna have to give'em something when you're there.

[Pink probably already knows that anyway. Orange goes in to lift that fake ID from his pocket, quick and sleight of hand. No one but White and Pink himself will know who Mr. Hickles really is.

Whenever the cavalry arrives Freddy here has all the right responses for them, the same ones he learned when he was a cop, communicating with people, perps, EMTs, you learn a lot on the job. His delivery is flawless, comparable to regular thieves and other shifty types because he's dealt with them countless times. It's second nature to Freddy Newendyke. Maybe it's no coincidence there are more cops undercover as criminals than their are criminals undercover as cops. Of course crooked cops are a completely different breed. Freddy Newendyke's not one of those guys...but he did just shoot a place up. Fuck.]

You're gonna be okay. [This he says to Pink. Picking things up from White are we? The question is can anyone roll the weasel onto a gurney without getting bit or scratched?]

contact;

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][

][action][