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]

[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.

[orangetoughguy]

[Could have what, huh? He stares at Pink. This is a cop who got shot and left to bleed in a warehouse. Those other cops could have busted in and saved him but they didn't. They didn't do it because they put the sting above his own protection. Freddy went into this knowing it was a possibility. That other cop, Marvin Nash, didn't know what the fuck was going on and his own threw him to the wolves too. Pink saw what Blonde did to him--

Er. Wait what? Suddenly Orange's face is flushing red for a completely different reason.]

N-no! We don't have bitchfights.

[Get your priorities straight, Newendyke, geeze.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

It ain't so-

[Pink's hands are in his hair and he points to Larry]

You're a fucking idiot!

[And then he points to Freddy]

And you-fuck-

Fuck!

[The Cat is looking at Larry with a distinct 'I used to like you but now I'm kind of annoyed at everyone in this room for waking me up' cat face

On the inside, small, tiny Pink is saying you guys were my friends, assholes]

I don't care what kind of fights you have!

[whitetwoguns]

[He waves that comment off. Not something he doesn't already think from time to time. Sigh. Larry is going for a cigarette.

As for Freddy though, that sort of lip makes him wanna smile. Now's not the time.]

You got dragged in, you suffered.

[Thems the facts. Dragged in by Joe and dragged in by Blonde. Click goes his lighter.]

[orangetoughguy]

They're not bitchfights.

[Freddy insists like a sullen teenager. Where'd his cigarette go? Oh right stomped out in the melee.] I wanted you to know cause you helped me out back there. For a while it didn't matter, Blonde was on the level, no other cops, just me. No one was goin' to jail while we were here. Then Blonde bumped up his scumbag a notch.

[And here they are now. He thinks about telling Pink it's also because he corrected him on Anne Francis being white but no that humor is probably ill-timed.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Get the fuck out.

[Said kind of flatly. Whatever he's doing, he's not flipping out - but then Pink is kind of close to a nervous breakdown so who knows. This might be some step]

[whitetwoguns]

C'mon, Orange.

[White's standing up. His cigarette is calming. Getting out of here will sure keep Pink safe. Looks like words aren't enough right now.]

You're welcome.

[For the brownies and a ballsy chance to man up. Larry hoped somehow Pink would appreciate that. This is a guy who sat on by him when times are tough even if it was to help him drink his money and put it on into a sparkling thong on some lady's ass.]

[orangetoughguy]

Okay.

[Freddy says, to both Pink and White. It's not like he expected this to resolve itself in a day but...that flat request, well. He thought they were friends too. Still, it's better than kicking the shit out of each other and pointing guns. Who knows if that could have triggered Blonde's reappearance, complete with a fucking drink.]

Thanks, man.

[For helping him, for not trying to kill him, for not giving Larry a quick street vasectomy. On his feet now, he's taking up the old man's side to get a move on.]