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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Comments

[whitetwoguns]

Joe's gone.

[You're welcome. Or maybe he's not. Maybe Larry's in for a whole ton of shit.]

Where are you?

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Gone like shot in the head?

[whitetwoguns]

Naw. Something like that though.

[This is such an uncomfortable conversation to have over the phone.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Fuck. Okay. I'm at my apartment, barricaded in.

[whitetwoguns]

Send me the address then tell me the password.

[Easy as that.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Shit, no, I'll meet you at the old place.

[Because there is no way he's telling anyone where he lives. There's an edge of paranoia, there.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Sigh.]

Fine. Be there soon.

[And armed but that's not for you, Pink. That's for those ghoul things.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Not like Pink is going anywhere without a gun. He just takes it with him, because he's paranoid.

He's there in ten minutes, waiting just outside the door, back to the wall]

[whitetwoguns]

[White comes along. Early, but not that early. He looks around and then knocks.]

Open sesame.

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Pink opens the door. Some of the furniture is still there - a chair, a table, the bed. Pink had gotten a better one off the Chekov kid for Bones, but Bones wasn't around anymore]

So what's the deal?

[whitetwoguns]

[In he comes but not before a look behind.]

I killed Joe.

[The words are too harsh and true so he waits a second before adding.]

Whatever looked like Joe. Squeezed his heart like a rotten fruit.

[This would have sounded cool, even amazing except for the fact that this is their life and it is a shitty act for a former friend.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[There's a pause because fuck if that isn't a crappy image]

Shit.

Like with your bare hands?

[whitetwoguns]

Only cuz bullets didn't do much at the time.

[Ahem. Larry doesn't sit down. This used to be their place way back when. It feels so much smaller. And it smells like a cat was here. Fuck that.

He rubs his forehead.]

So y'don't have to worry about him.

[Why he felt the need to come to Pink could be an underlining desire to really get the guilty party treatment. Give what's coming to him since Joe expired during his ruling. Except what could have been done? Joe is dead while Orange and White live on. As for Pink? Pink will be there when the A-bombs fall and live it up with Cher and roaches.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Did someone pop out of the fucking woodwork with a fucking medal?

[whitetwoguns]

Huh?

[Puzzled face.]

No. I think I got a concussion.

[And if not that lots of bruises and shit. You might see a few Pink around his hairline.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Hold up, getting a concussion?

For killing Joe?

Okay seems legit]

Has someone looked at your head?

[whitetwoguns]

The doctors. It sorta hurt. I felt like shit.

[Wait. Did you really think it was all bullshit? Thanks Pink.]

Still do sorta.

[Not because big meaty undead hands laid down the wrecking.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[Okay he takes out a cigarette. He doesn't smoke (much) anymore (okay he's not kidding anyone) but he passes it over.

Shit like the deserves a cigarette]

So why the need to say it in person?

[whitetwoguns]

[A nod of thanks for the smoke. Why even refuse?]

We knew 'im. And [big shoulders shrug] it was important to me to tell you.

[Don't peel it a part too much weasel.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

[He stares unhappily at the floor]

He was an ornery bastard but the pay was good.

So was it worth it, White?

[whitetwoguns]

[Nod for the first statement. The second White lifts his head.]

If I were dead I couldn't say one way or the other.

[Except he's alive. Well. Get what you thought you would, old man. Take your goddamn medicine.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

That's not what I fucking meant.

[Suddenly Pink realizes he's about to ask a question that might actually make this asshole punch him but he's not sure he cares.]

Knowing what you know, that your kid is a fucking rat, was it worth it to off Joe?

[whitetwoguns]

I don't know what life would have been like if I had let Joe shoot that kid. I don't want to fucking know.

[His voice is gravel. While he did care for the old bastard Larry has made his choice.]

Fuck this. You're welcome.

[With a shake of his head he's heading to the door. Which....is keeping them safe for the time being.]

[pinkeffinprofessional]

Don't say shit like that too loud, you never know what the fucking City'll come up with.

[He shakes his head. Whatever, asshole, suit yourself.]

[whitetwoguns]

[Door open and not even two steps in the hallway.]

Stop...that gun...at my ...dad...

You got to be fucking me.

[Pink? Uh. Pink? Are you there Pink? Larry falls back and draws his gun.]