pinkeffinprofessional

Because I wanna eat em too.

[Even though he's passing over the plate. This used to be their apartment. Even with the cat the old man feels a sense of comfort. He nods to Freddy to go for the couch. It isn't that big at all.]

You coughing ash still?

[Of course he's not. Just making conversation. This might be harder than he thought.]

[Oh look Smaug is asleep. How comforting. Except not. Freddy can tell there's someone else living here now and he's got an idea but that guy isn't important as long as he's not home. And yes he did a little research to make sure they came by while Pink was alone or something. Yep.]

Lemme have one.

[Freddy insists though he gets the feeling the weasel isn't gonna fall for it. Plop on the comfy couch. He's getting a cigarette out.]

[There's a bed in the living room too but Pink don't sit on it, that's McCoy's. He grabs a brownie for each and shrugs]

Yeah, but I'm better. You guys?

[The bed really makes it smaller in here. NO words about it though. Interesting. Whoever sleeps here don't get a couch. He doesn't make the McCoy connection.]

Okay. They keep saying I oughta quit smoking every time I go in for a check up.

[He says it like it's bothersome. Uh oh. Are they gonna run on out of small talk so quick?]

Same here. I think it's part of the contract or something, you can't practice without throwing down the surgeon's general or whatever.

[Freddy shrugs like it's no thing, delaying the inevitable. He puffs on that cigarette. Puff puff puff.]

[Seriously?

They've had more stunning conversations about breasts and these guys are fags]

Did you find Blonde's body or something?

[Well they clearly are trying to say something]

No sir. We dunno what became of him.

[Larry thumbs the side of his nose. He's got an arm around the back of the couch, around Freddy.]

I'd want to know. As far as I'm concerned, we got unfinished business.

[He fucked em all over. Except that phrase isn't too good to use right now because technically that's what the law does to them--he and Pink. It's getting a little warm in here.]

No. No sign of him.

[Freddy shakes his head. Unfinished business, says White...he clears his throat. Okay Newendyke, cut to the chase, the weasel can smell it already.]

Thanks for helping me out back there...I owe you one.

Yeah, to say the fucking least.

[He could have bolted.]

So let's crack open those brownies.

[And cut to the chase. Larry wants to get up and do it himself but he won't. Not yet. Not if it means that Freddy's gonna go and do talking when he's pulled away. Thinking like that makes the apartment feel like a fucking studio not a glorified broom closet.]

[Already? Come on, Larry. Caramel eyes dart his way then Pink's way then the stupid cat's way then back to Larry and back to Pink. The pressure's on, this isn't a studio or a broom closet it's a pressure cooker.]

I'm the rat.

[Orange blurts out quickly.]

[There are two ways to react to that.

There is the slow, grasping way.

And then there's the Pink quick as a roach way. He's punching Freddy in the face, his left hand slipping into the couch.

There's a fucking gun in there somewhere

but son of a bitch Orange has a fucking hard face]

[Bad move, Pink. Bad fucking move. He might have laid a punch but White is on him. Big meaty hands are at his throat. The mass of his body is fixing to knock him down if not away.]

He ain't done!

[Saying his piece.]

[OW. YOU FUCKER. THIS NOSE DOESN'T NEED TO BE ANY BIGGER THAN IT ALREADY IS.

Well at least Pink doesn't make him spurt blood everywhere. Because he was sitting Orange really has no place else to go but deeper into the sofa so to speak. he was about to kick out in retaliation but White's got his paws on the weasel already. Is it time to get his gun? Is it? He's thinking about it.]

I'm sorry okay!

[Because Larry said he wasn't done yet when Freddy felt like he was so now he has to add more words just to make it seem legitimate.]

Get the fuck off me you fucking traitor-

[He's squirming like a weasel]

Eddie and Joe are dead because of that piece of-

And you fucking knew? Get the fuck off me!

Shut up!

[Now he's getting more rough than he meant to. Larry pulls Pink up to make eye contact and give him a shake. Thick hands don't constrict about his neck but the temptation is heady.]

Don't even dare talk to me about Joe and Fucking Eddie. I know what I did. It wasn't right.

[Pink might not have the same strength as the old man but verbal blows get him right to the fucking heart.]

I didn't know! You hear me? I didn't fuckin' know.

[Now there's a shake for good measure. His face is going nearly red with rage and audacity. Lawrence Dimick is a traitor.]

[Whoa whoa whoa. Hold the phone. Now Orange is springing up to his feet to yell at Pink. Look at the red mark he's sporting on his face. It'll turn blue and purple later.]

This isn't about him, this is about me! He didn't know either!

[PS. Lawrence Dimick:] Let him go.

Let me go asshole!

[Pink don't give a shit about you, Larry.

Also if you hold me that way, to make eye contact, he's gonna kick you in the balls.

Which he does.]

[Cringing, keeling over.]

Fuck.

[And coughing. He's got no words just a world of pain. Low, low blow Pink. Of course he lets go.]

[Aw fuck aw fuck. At least Freddy still hasn't gotten his gun out. A guy who delivers a kick to the balls means something personal, not business, so really they ought to be looking out for knives not guns. Right??]

It wasn't supposed to get so fucked up, okay? If Blonde hadn't gone fuckin' crazy no one woulda died.

[And they'd all go to jail for plain old armed robbery if anything, some let off the hook if they spoke against Joe Cabot. Joe was always the target as the ringleader. Oh and Larry gets a wince for that pain. Sorry though, he's not going to strike out at Pink for it, not when he wants to grasp at some potential neutrality with the guy for their own sake.]

[FINALLY FREEDOM TO FLEE TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM. It's a small room, though. And really Pink hates guns, he hates murder, he's just a fucking thief, how the fuck did this shit get so complicated]

If it hadn't been a fucking setup he wouldn't have gone fucking crazy-

Oh fuck the asshole knew and he thought-

Shit!

[Pink is pacing like a fucking speed junkie looking for his next fix]

[Larry would like to just put Pink out of his misery. Only before putting himself outta his own. It's been a while since someone gave him a swift kick where it hurts. He's still working it out slowly but surely.]

Blonde didn't know. He was just unhinged.

[Facts are just fucking facts. He can't offer up that much. Slowly he eases himself on up with the help of the coffee table. The one he almost banged his head against. What a way to be pragmatic, Orange.]

[Oh come on, White. Look see this freckled hand reaching out to help you on up? He's doing that while looking and talking to Pink.]

Blonde didn't know shit. Blonde went fucking crazy over a goddamn alarm. You saw it, I saw it, we all fucking saw him shoot civilians, you know real people.

[If Pink hasn't figured it out yet, not only is he a rat...he's a cawp.]

You're a fucking cop!

[So, yeah, that's a yes]

The cops were right there because they fucking knew and maybe we could have salv-

[No sorry Pink is gonna break out in hives. He drank with this man.

He fed this man turkey.]

And you fucking knew it is that why you've been having little fucking bitchfights every few months?

[He's not blind, guys.]

[The extra flappy hands makes the short journey to the couch comfortable. He rakes his fingers through his hair. Next mishap and Pink is gonna get it. Even if he's been wronged and in the dark, that's no way to go about it when they could have canned him a long time ago.]

I knew because he told me. It ain't so fucking simple.

[Their relationship and the undisputed truth he means. Huff. And those aren't bitchfights.]

We're tellin' you now because you ought to know.

[Almost ruefully he adds:]

We didn't want you getting hurt, wrapped up in the mess.

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