Dumarest
Vaquero de Alta California
- Joined
- Jan 20, 2018
- Messages
- 15,721
- Reaction score
- 34,438
Just as the last of you makes it up into the shadowy rafters, the door opens with a scraping sound. Two burly men enter, one swarthy and smoking a cigar and the other pale and jangling the keys in his pocket. They're dressed in ordinary coveralls. A hard bright light filters through the door they left ajar, but neither makes a move to turn on the lights.
"Man, they gotta stop scrimpin' on maintenance," says the pale one.
"I know, Steve," replies the swarthy one. "I wouldn't wanna be the boss if Mr. Fisk ever finds out the money for the security system went to private schools for the kids instead."
"Yeah? What's fatty gonna do, call the cops?" asks Steve .
"If I was you I'd show some respect. That ain't fat, man, that's all muscle. I seen him work out."
"Yeah, well, he ain't here, Stan," says Steve as he bends at the knee to lift a crate. "C'mon, help me with this."
"Not without my gloves on, man," says Stan as he slides his hands into a pair of industrial blue nitrile gloves. "I don't know what this stuff is and I'm not taking any chances."
"Well, too late now, " says Steve. "I wish Vito and Rick had got that order right. That Yellowlands guy is a freak if you ask me."
"Nobody asked you."
"Yeah, well, his birds give me the creeps the way they stare at us. Let's get this done quick. Run a few red lights if we have to."
As you watch from above, you see them start to heave the crate toward the exit to the alley.
"Man, they gotta stop scrimpin' on maintenance," says the pale one.
"I know, Steve," replies the swarthy one. "I wouldn't wanna be the boss if Mr. Fisk ever finds out the money for the security system went to private schools for the kids instead."
"Yeah? What's fatty gonna do, call the cops?" asks Steve .
"If I was you I'd show some respect. That ain't fat, man, that's all muscle. I seen him work out."
"Yeah, well, he ain't here, Stan," says Steve as he bends at the knee to lift a crate. "C'mon, help me with this."
"Not without my gloves on, man," says Stan as he slides his hands into a pair of industrial blue nitrile gloves. "I don't know what this stuff is and I'm not taking any chances."
"Well, too late now, " says Steve. "I wish Vito and Rick had got that order right. That Yellowlands guy is a freak if you ask me."
"Nobody asked you."
"Yeah, well, his birds give me the creeps the way they stare at us. Let's get this done quick. Run a few red lights if we have to."
As you watch from above, you see them start to heave the crate toward the exit to the alley.