contact;

[pinkeffinprofessional]

If you don't know who the fuck you're trying to reach, then hang up the fucking phone. If not, leave a message. Try to make it snappy, will you?

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[whitetwoguns]

[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?]

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[pinkeffinprofessional]

Okay, okay, whatever.

[He takes a huffing breath]

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

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[orangetoughguy]

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?]