/k/asino Anon

Written by Kasino

Paste managed by Harpy Anon 


>Be me
>Have a nice job in Vegas
>Bit of context to the job
>After the /k/onvergance or whatever they call it happened Las Vegas went tits over ass and got more fucked than a hooker during an NBA team celebration
>Being in the middle of the Mojave relying on tourism and stuff like that will definitely fuck you over when a disaster happenes
>Mafia couldn't keep a full grip on Vegas with all the new fantasy niggers spilling out
>Plus a whole bunch of the surrounding area in the mojave got swapped out with a bunch of fucking places straight out LOTR, Berserk, castlevania, and other mediaval fantasy shit
>Pretty much for a decade strait Vegas was close to uninhabitable
>Luckily things stabilized after a bit and the mafia started rebuilding
>But, thing is, they don't got a simple time setting back up
>I guess the fantasy races were smart enough to set up their own mafias or something like that
>Now you got three or four different organized crime groups of different races wanting their slice of the city that never sleeps
>Which is where I come in
>I have a nice job
>Technically, on paper, I’m a real estate technician
>Which means I go in an make sure places are in proper working order so my bosses can buy them up 
>Real estate is hotly needed in Vegas
>You have to own a building to put a casino or club or bar in it
>Pretty lucrative job actually
>Get a fee and a commission from the sales groups
>Overall not a bad gig
>at least it wasn’t until that fucking night


>Time for me to work a job
>Make sure I have the proper patch slapped on to my taxi jackets velcro
>Tonight I am working for the Vegas electrical company
>Have all my paperwork in my satchel for the job
>Layout of the building, my permits required, work phone
>Plus a few minor accessories but we will get to that later
>Walk up to front of the building
>Shabby Strip club on the shitty side of Vegas
>You know the type
>Get up to the door when the bouncer stops me
>Big brute of a man
>I’d swear he would have made a better ogre than half of the green skins I see walking around
>Asks me what I’m doing
>Tell him I’m an electrical technician and got a job to do checking wires and such
>He doesn't buy it
>Pull up my paperwork and shit
>Seems a bit disgruntled but it all checks out
>He gives me a pat down
>Making sure I’m not hiding anything or CCing
>He’s surprised when he finds nothing
>Which is surprising in this day and age with /k/ommandos and STALKERS running around the cities and woods looking for waifus and treasure
>He calls me stupid and warns me to not let the music or lights shut off when I work because a private group is renting the place
>Tell him he doesn't have anything to worry about
>Which is half a lie, but the lights and music will stay on
>Walk through the strip club
>Pounding bass synth music, flashing neon purple and green lights
>Several poles set up with elves and tieflings working them
>Center stage is a long cat walk with a trio of Tieflings “dancing” on it
>Get groped by several of the waitresses as I walk through the area
>It’s a busy night tonight
>Lots of dudes in nice suits or merc gear
>Many of them got guns for some reason…
>even though I got pat down…
>not good

>Place is a bit rowdy
>Perfect for my job though
>Follow the path I memorized to the bathroom, trying to avoid getting molested further by the waitresses
>I want  to piss before I work
>Bathroom is much quieter than the outside club
>Take stall and piss, ignoring the sound of a waitress earning herself a “tip” from a patron in the next stall
>Gross as fuck
>Least they could do is get a hotel room or something
>Now
>Time for my job
>As a realestate technician, I have to make sure my boss can buy a place out
>And my boss wants to buy this club
>Because the owner set it up without my bosses permission
>Which if you know how territory works is a really brain dead stupid fuck idea
>Where do the fuckheads like these even come from?
>So, I need to clear it out and put it on the market
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-yCugLzC14 is playing over the speakers
>good song for this
>Open up my satchel
>Take out the insert that makes it look like a real satchel
>Because it isn't a satchel
>Well, eh, not a regular satchel
>I got a bag of holding for my job
>Pull out a very nice Glock-18, perfect for this job
>Yeah yeah Glocknade or whatever you want to say go suck a dick
>Slap in a 17 round stick mag
>Because it's easier to carry that in a holster than it is to carry the glock with the 50 round drum mags I also have in the bag
>Got three or four of these things stuffed in here, you never want to run out during a job


>Get out my next item
>Looks exactly like a polymer gunstock
>Because it is one
>Open up the back of the stock
>An upper receiver and a barrel are nestled into their slots
>Take them out and fix them to the Stock with a click and a twist
>badabingbadaboom, full rifle 
>Someone pounds on my stall door
>”Hey man you attaching your dick back on or something there? Hurry up!”
>Fucking asshole
>Anyways, AR-7 is ready for action
>Got a few upgrades on it because I like to keep things classy, and my boss likes keeping my shit top notch
>Integrally suppressed barrel because loud noises hurt my fucking ears
>Some flower roots or other are inside it, and there's these little glowing petaly flower things that work as sites
>When I asked my boss about it he muttered something about Moths
>Whatever these Moth characters are they make a damn fine enchantment
>But the main point of the flower roots is that it does something with the heat in the suppressor and a rune that got inscribed on the inside of the barrel
>Something about blood magic, boss never told me the full details and I never asked because a good worker never sticks his nose where it doesn't belong
>Got that ready
>Sling the AR-7 over my shoulder on the strap I attached to it
>light as angel feathers
>Door gets pounded on again
>Same guy yelling for me to hurry up
>At least he could disturb the couple in the next stall
>Why am I getting picked on?
>Look at the floor plan again just so I don't get lost like some mook
>check out out the hidden contract details for my job
>*VERY IMPORTANT: NO HUMAN MEN ALLOWED ALIVE ESPECIALLY IF IN A GREY PASGT SUIT I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH NO HUMAN MEN ALLOWED ALIVE NONE OF THEM ARE INNOCENT JUST SHOOT THEM ALL OR YOULL BE SORRY -Boss*
>This was added to the bottom of my contract in invisible crayon
>Yeah, invisible crayon
>I don't get it either

>Not too sure why my boss is so pissed at these dudes, but I don't get paid to ask questions
>I’m just here to do my real estate job
>Pounding on the door is growing steady
>fucking hell this idiot’s gonna knock the door off
>Light up a cigarette before putting in my ear pro
>Grab my last piece of gear
>Aviator sunglasses
>Looks pretty sick, plus my boss got em dripped with stuff that lets me see well in the dark
>Spared no expense for a good employee who doesn't ask too many questions
>hear a dude yell “quit smoking or I’ll smoke your ass!”
>Flick safety off, rack the bolt, unlock door
>*KICK*
>Stall door flies open
>Dumbfuck who was pounding on the door is standing there shocked
>Looks like a local merc in shabby surplus
>Fire the AR-7 from the hip
>The suppressor works well, only sounds like one of those string pull firework poppers like you have on New Years
>Hits him in the throat
>There's a millisecond delay as the .22 hits his neck
>he stumbles back
>then his entire neck blows out in a weird flash like an explosion mixed with red strobe
>Splatter goes all over the mirrors of the bathroom
>Results look like he was hit with a HEI round
>Hear a muffled “what the hell”
>Turn as the other stall door swings open
>Confused merc with a half dressed waitress stare at me
>Pull trigger twice
>Merc takes both rounds to center mass
>two strobes
>Waitress is screaming as the merc slumps over with most his chest cavity destroyed
>thats what you get for fucking in a bathroom stall
>Blood magic, gotta love it right?
>Time for the main event

>It’s time
>Just so happens https://youtu.be/xW1tHgyfCoA just started playing
>Beautiful
>Kick open bathroom door
>Glasses make the nightclub look like dusk
>Not too dark, but not bright
>The perfect moodiness
>Can see many people focusing on the tieflings doing some garish “routine” on stage
>Not one of them heard what happened in the bathroom
>Even the plainclothes security aren't looking
>Stupid smucks in khakis and black polos with matching baseball caps, blatantly carrying some outdated surplus pistol
>Here we go 
>Plink the first one in his head
>Pops with a strobe of red as the .22 rune kicks in
>put another at the neck of the guard who is buy the door
>Results are similar to the guy in the restroom
>Patrons and other guards finally start noticing whats happening after the fourth guard goes down
>They start drawing guns
>Keep firing, aiming carefully
>The security guards are wearing plates, so I have to get them in the head or somewhere soft like that where they'll drop in hit
>Much easier to do that when there isn't much stress
>Keeping the panic is necessary
>Even if one is wounded he can point out where I shot from
>Dancers and waitresses scream and start fleeing
>Patrons start drawing their guns
>Because of course they have guns
>I’m probably the only dude who got patted down all night
>Finally hear a loud crack of an unsuppressed gun
>Wall a few feet away from me gets a large hole in it
>Time to move
>Start to go counter clockwise around the club
>It’s not a huge place, but there still is room to move
>I can see patrons heading towards the front
>Can’t let that happen
>Pull the trigger on the AR-7 fast
>Luckily each round hits a target in the mass of mercs and suits
>i dont have to be careful where I aim
>Dumb ass mook’s arent even wearing plate
>The lights from the flashing blood magic .22’s nearly matches the clubs lights
>It’s like some fucked up dance party as dudes drop or recoil in pain

>Mag is empty
>Keep moving as people fire in my general direction
>They can't pinpoint me though
>I’m just a shadow moving through the strobing lights
>Slap another mag into the AR-7 as I put the empty one in my satchel
>Some patrons start to try and flank me while guards fire in my general directions
>Pull out Glock-18
>Aim it in their general direction and pull the trigger
>full auto burst catches the patrons in the chest and upper torso, putting them down
>Mag is emptied in a single second
>Dumbasses didn't wear plate
>Still distracted me for a few seconds
>Guards are moving now
>Damn shooting a place up is stressful when everyone is armed
>Conceal myself behind some booths as I get my bearings
>I think theres a few guards left
>Maybe a half dozen patrons?
>I think I wasted about four of them
>Ah, numbers are for chumps
>Lets keep going
>Pop back up and pop a few more rounds at some suits taking cover behind booths
>The flashes of red tell me I hit them
>fucking shems don't realize Concealment =/= cover 
>Pop one last guard who drops like a sack of potatoes
>Last few patrons don’t give me much trouble
>Especially when they realize how fucked they are
>I don’t like this part of the job, but I get good money for it
>So I do what needs to be done
>Boss said to do something, I do it
>No human males left alive

>Head towards the back rooms
>Nobody’s come out of there, so they might not know I’m here
>Better go make sure my bosses orders are followed through
>Let myself into the back room
>First area looks like a waiting room with a large red curtain in the doorway to the next room
>I can hear yelling and laughing coming from the other side
>Someones in trouble
>Son of a bitch
>What dumbfuck got themselves caught by these schmucks?
>Whoever it is they ain't happy
>Ready AR-7
>Throw back the curtain
>First thing that catches my eye is this fucking blonde bimbo looking harpy tied to a fucking folding chair trying to lean back
>Next thing is the five mercs in dark grey PASGT gear clustered around her laughing and leering around her
>One of them has a straight razor too close to her throat that she is desperately trying to get away from, while a different one is pushing her chair closer to it
>They all turn to me confused
>”Who the hell are you?”
>....
>Good question
>Pull trigger
>.22 hits razor dudes head
>switch and put two into his closest buddies collar
>He drops the chair
>several rounds go into a guys back as he turns and runs towards a red velvet couch
>get the fourth in his face as he grabs for a LR-300 by a chair
>Last one manages to put a hand on his LR-300 before I put him down by emptying the rest of the .22 into him
>Dumbasses not even being armed
>Who even hires these guys?




>Put in a new mag to my .22
>Not like I’ll need it
>”Hey dude, untie me.”
>Who the fuck?
>Oh, her
>Look at the ground
>the harpy is sideways in her chair
>She looks uncomfortable
>She squirms in the seat nodding at the ropes and smiling
>”Come on, please? They fucking hurt. I've been stuck in this shit for hours yah see.”
>Maybe I should…
>But 
>they probably had a really good reason to tie her up
>”No, can't do.”
>Harpy looks at me pissed
>”Why the fuck not?”
>Why not?
>Good question
>”There is a good reason you were tied up and had a knife at your throat, thats why.”
>She frowns
>”Dude, you fucking shoot those guys and save me just to leave me tied to a chair? Jackass.”
>Excuse me?
>”Look, I didn't save you. Alright? I only shot them because I had to.”
>I turn to leave
>I can hear the harpy stammering
>’Hey dude what the fuck? L-look dont you know that whole thing? The enemy of my enemy is my friend or some goody shit like that?”
>Look back at her
>Aim the AR-7
>”Well I like to think that the enemy of my enemy dies next.”
>Bimbo blonde harpy looks scared
>She's shivering
>Eh, I’m not cruel
>Snicker and turn to leave
>My work here is done
>No reason to cause further bloodshed
>She’ll probably free herself before the police get here
>And they’ll find nothing because my boss’s payroll says so
>”If you step out there you're fucked dude.”
>What?

>Turn back to the harpy
>Her face is both serious and smug
>Fucking cheshire grin
>”Whaddya mean?”
>”You ever worked against these douches before? You shot up their club, they’re gonna send a bunch of other fags to rough you up. You’ll maybe last thirty seconds once you walk out the front door of this place before a merc puts a bullet in your head. We maybe got five minutes before they come in here
>...
>No way
>She’s bluffing
>How the hell would she know this shit?
>They're just some ragtag schmucks who fancy themselves as mafiosos
>...
>Still though…
>”How’d yah know that?”
>The harpy gives me a smug grin
>”Said it yourself dude, theres a fucking reason I was tied up in this chair with a knife at my neck.”
>fucking
>what a bitch
>....
>She makes a good point though
>I don't feel like getting my head splattered tonight
>damn it here we go
>Walk back to her
>Get a knife out
>Put it right by her face
>”I’m going to let you out, but first, you’ll tell me your name, alright?”
>Harpy nods
>”Yeah, sure, whatever.”
>she stares at me blankly and nods
>An awkward silence grows
>”Well? Name?”
>Harpy seems to blush
>Fucking airhead bimbo
>”Ah, yeah. Right, that.”
>She gives me a weak grin and chuckles
>”Zeegle. Zeegle Segall. Whats it to yah anyways dude?”

>Look up the harpy’s name on my phone
>No outstanding warrants, no social media, no address, nothing
>Pretty suspicious
>But if her words are right, I got about five minutes until the fuckhead equivalent of SWAT comes knocking on this door
>Worst comes to worse, she’s a harpy
>Hollow bones don’t hold up to well against brass knuckles or a boot
>”Alright, I’m letting you out, but I don’t like it”
>”Aw, what made yah change your mind dude? Don’t wanna get fucked up and shot?”
>Cut the ropes and let her out
>She chuckles happily and stands upright
>and…
>Fuck she *stands*
>Tall and willowy like sapling
>What the hell? I thought harpies were small?
>She's probably got a good head on me height wise
>Her bodies shape isn't rally hidden under that outfit
>Like a suit vest over a white button up and tie with cutoff dress pants
>Fucking lanky bimbo bitch
>Although, with “assets” like those I wonder why those guys were having fun killing her  instead of….
>Yeah never mind all that
>Maybe they didn’t do anything because of her weird bleached blonde hair, wild and fluffy
>Stuff is messy and lengthy and all over the place
>or her skin that's tanned like she hasn't seen shade in weeks
>even those strange white and black feathers, almost like a seagulls, but wrong in the shape…
>And her long bird legs have talons
>Fucking talons
>I dont know about you, but I know for a fucking fact seagulls don’t have talons
>she gives me a pointy toothed grin and winks her practically glowing green eyes
>Something about her is unsettling and false
>Like she just aint real



>She’s still smiling happily and chuckling to herself
>I keep the AR-7 trained on her as she stretches herself out
>Ignores me completely and walks over to the back area
>I hear her rummaging around for something
>Muttering weird things about losing something important
>Well that's your fault for getting caught if you lost it
>Hear an “AHA”
>Harpy comes out from the back wearing what looks like a detectives long coat
>Loose fitting around her lanky frame, looks more like some beige windbreaker than anything else, but it’s nice and sleek looking with the white liner it has
>If she gets got I’ll have to pick it up off her
>No sense in letting a nice coat like that go to waste
>Especially not on a harpy
>Tense up as she holds a fucked up looking gun
>What the hell is that?
>Is that a Sten?
>Luckily she doesn't sweep me with the muzzle and is busy rummaging around her pockets for something
>Pulls out a long mag and puts it in the side of her gun 
>Yep, it’s a Sten
>Gesture at it
>”You telling me the fucking rambo and friends are coming here, and all you got to help is a Sten? What kind of a chump you take me for?”
>Harpy frowns a little
>”Hey, it’s a Sterling, not a greasy Stench gun or whatever it's called. Fucking thing is much better engineered than those old shitty piles of scrap parts.”
>Roll my eyes behind my aviators
>Doesn't matter what brit bong scrap gun you have, it ain't gonna help much against whoever is going to be kicking down the club door
>Drop my AR-7 back into the bag as the bird fusses over the stenerling or whatever it is
>disassembly will come later
>Reach in to the bag
>Pull out my shotgun
>A custom sawn off Ithaca 37
>Got a tube of holding or something like that in it
>can stuff as many shotgun shells as I want in the damn thing
>Only downside it gets a bit harder to load with each new shell after 10, but I aint complaining
>Let’s see the A-team try and fuck around with a couple dozen bear grade shotgun slugs


>Pull up Ithica and get behind one of the walls where the curtain is
>Seems to be made out of concrete so it should be safe
>Aim the shotty at the door
>Make sure shell is pumped in
>The bird stands across at the other wall
>”So uh, what's your name dude? You fucking got one?”
>Damn bird
>”Yeah, Tooya.”
>The bird gives me a weird look
>”Yah fucking named Tooyah?”
>”Yeah, last name Tooyah, first name Whatsit. Whatsit Tooyah.”
>The bird rolls her eyes 
>”Ah, fucking hell, dude. Why not tell me so I can shout it if you are gonna get clapped, yah know?”
>...
>Damn it she makes a good point
>”Anon, names Anon, some friends call me Kasino, but I’m named Anon.”
>Look over at the bird
>She’s glaring at me like I just gave her sandwich dipped in shit 
>”What? You gotta fucking problem?”
>She lets out a long sigh
>”I’m calling you Kasino.”
>Nope
>Not going to happen
>”That’s for friends, youre not a fucking friend. Youre some fucking bird. Call me Anon.”
>”Whatever dude, last time I met an Anon it didn’t go too well.”
>Gee I fucking wonder why
>Especially since I just met her and am already pissed
>I hear a muffled bang, like a large object smashing through something 
>Aim Ithaca at the door
>there's the sounds of various gunshots
>wait what
>Who the hell are they shooting?
>weird
>muffled yells of “clear” and the likes
>everything goes quiet
>there's scuffling outside the door, like little kids trying to be sneaky passing their very awake parents bedroom
>Shadows shining under the door from the still flashing club lights
>the clicking of bolts and safeties
>door handle jiggles a little
>my heart is pounding
>I can hear the harpy breathing heavy
>This is going to b a fun time


>Everything goes quiet
>Like a single second getting dragged into eternity
>Nothing happens at all
>Reminds me of a moment where I slipped on ice as a kid in the city and was sent lying down the stairs
>just peace for an eternity
>Then everything happens at once 
>Back room door gets kicked open hard
>First spook comes in
>Plate and kit over plain clothes, balaclava covering head, some SBR or other in his hand, flashlight on the barrel strobing 
>Typical mid price spook get up, nothing fancy but also makes decent pay
>Second spook is following behind him close, followed by three others
>Must not see me or the bird
>She raises a hand, gesturing to wait a minute
>My finger itches as it rests on the Ithaca trigger
>Wanting to squeeze it, blow the fuckhead away
>...
>Fuck it
>*BOOM*
>Ithaca lights up the room
>Spook 1 goes down as the slug smashes through his head
>Spook 2 raises his gun In my general direction
>Automatic fire lights him up as the bird fires her scrap smg
>One round gets lucky and hits spook 2s throat, dropping him as he writhes on the ground
>the two back spooks try to scramble out of the room, putting bullets in our general direction
>Put two slugs towards them
>Slug slams into the plate armor of spook three
>his balaclava becomes dark around the mouth as he stumbles back doing the anime style blood cough
>he falls back onto the ground
>other two spooks stumble out of the room as I put more slugs towards them 
>fuck these damn spooks

>the bird stops firing
>glares at me
>”Dude, fucking wait next time. We could’ve got all of them. Seems like they were stupid enough to all come in.”
>fuck off stupid bird 
>Keep my sights aimed at the doorway 
>gun swings around and fires at us wildly
>fucking spooks
>put several slugs through the wall
>gun suddenly drops
>good
>”Damn it, we’re going to get fucked.”
>Zeegle seems pissed
>”Hey question, where the fucks your car dude?”
>now hold on a sec
>”how the hell you know I have a car?”
>The bird looks at me like I’m retarded
>”how the fuck else would you get here dude? I wouldn’t assume you walked here and expected to walk back.”
>damn, she’s got a point
>”how the hell you know I didn’t get dropped off and aren’t going to be picked up?”
>the seagull looking broad laughs at me
>”Dude, not easy to assume you got friends.”
>...
>you 
>fucking
>bitch
>I hate this fucking bird
>”you know, for a fucking bird brained broad, you sure do got a lot of balls saying shit like that.”
>”am I wrong though?”
>let out a long sigh and fires several slugs out the doorway and the nearby walls
>”parking garage out behind the other building, out of the way place, why the fuck you asking?”
>the bird smiles at me
>”because walking out the front door ain’t gonna work anymore, so let’s improvise”


>improvise on a mission?
>”why improvise? There’s maybe a handful of spooks. Light up their asses and go out the front door. I stick to the job.”
>The harpy shakes her head and puts a new mag into her watchamacallit smg 
>”sounds too risky dude, unless you like the idea of getting clapped.”
>I can’t help but smile a little
>”we’re in Vegas, gotta push your luck. Take me for a quitter?”
>I can hear the harpy laugh
>”yeah, but how about we just live to see another day? Sound cool?”
>she grabs something from one of her coat pockets
>looks like a weird cylinder, almost something like one of those pillsbury biscuit tubes
>I hear a pop as she opens it
>the unmistakable smell of almonds fills the room
>that better not be cyanide
>I’m going to be pissed if she’s huffing cyanide to kill herself
>”hey cover me, will yah?”
>before I can say anything she boots back towards the wall at the end of the room
>I hear shouting and gunshots
>bullets start coming at me from the front 
>fucking hell this bird…
>put slugs at them in random directions
>less to hit, more to suppress
>I can’t see them from behind the wall but I can put the fear of God in them 
>drywall doesn’t stop slugs
>and thank fuck for old concrete walls
>my mind stops as I keep firing
>occasionally I’ll catch sight of a spook running around the outside of the room and I’ll put a slug towards them
>but besides that, I just keep firing
>Ithaca’s barrel is practically smoldering
>I could do this all day

>unfortunately all day might not be easy
>it gets quiet
>fast
>I don’t like this
>where the fuck did the spooks go?
>occasionally a round will smack into the wall, but it’s not suppressive
>more just one every now and then
>where did they all go…
>I catch the glint of metal and glass
>ah, lord have mercy, that ain’t good
>”Ay! You almost done huffing yah fucking glue or whatever it is? These fucks got a shield!”
>put a slug towards the breaching shield
>slams into the metal, scuffing it
>damn it, this ain’t good at all
>fire another slug, hitting the glass, cracking it
>shield spook swings up a pistol and starts firing at me
>take cover behind the wall
>this is quickly turning to shit
>put Ithaca back into the bag and grab out my Glock with the drum still attached
>start dumping the drum at him in bursts
>catch movement out of the corner of my eye
>the bird is back
>”alright, you fucking ready dude?”
>glance back at the wall
>some strange green paint has been coated on it in a wide square with an X through it
>”what type of fucking spell is that shit? You a witch or something?”
>the bird holds up a detonator in her hand
>”yep. I’m a witch, and the spells called Nobles 808.”
>what type of fucking spell is-
>”open your fucking mouth and plug your ears.”


>before I can do anything she hits the detonator
>the wall fucking explodes and I’m pummeled by a shockwave
>the blast shakes everything, and smoke fills the room
>mother fucker, that HURT
>luckily the spooks are shaken the fuck up
>shield dude is backing off
>”let’s fucking go dude!”
>harpy makes a dash for the freshly made hole in the wall, spraying her scrap gun at the spooks
>she dives out of it
>look at the doorway
>fucking spooks are recovering
>shield spook is picking up his pistol
>damn it
>mag dump the rest of the Glock drum at them and book it as I see the shield spook stumble backwards
>jump out the door sized hole in the wall
>keep my footing on the rubble as I jump out into the alleyway besides the building
>now how the hell did she know this was back here?
>ask the harpy about this
>”gotta trust your instincts on shit like this dude.”
>...
>”so you took a wild ass guess?”
>”actually it’s called an educated decision faggot, come on let’s get to the garage.”
>book it down the alleyway, running fast
>take several twists and turns behind the back buildings
>heart’s pounding, sweats coating my body, my head is ringing from the blast
>”hey, bird, fuck you for pulling that shit.”
>The harpy laughs as she runs
>”hey dude, gotta run from your problems if you can’t face them.”
>really?
>”makes you sound like a fucking bitch, you know that?”
>”ah, go suck a dick dude.”

>we make it to the garage 
>I have my Ithaca out just in case, but I don’t think we will be followed
>I feel the adrenaline still coursing through my body, the potent cocktail making me twitchy, but my breathing is slowing
>I’m going to crash hard tonight
>pull out my car keys and hit unlock
>beeping let’s me know where I’m parked
>sometimes that’s a real godsend 
>parked in the back, away from everyone else
>keeps the car nice, plus nobody should hit it
>The bird is still following me
>I hear her stifle a laugh
>”dude, you drive this? Wow, I didn’t take you for that kind of guy.”
>by “this” she means my black DMC Delorian
>and yes, I like it
>this thing is my baby
>open up the driver side door, letting it swing up
>throw in my bag onto the passenger seat
>get in and close down the door
>start up the car
>I want to go the fuck home
>there’s a tapping
>damn it not this
>the bird is waving at me from the window
>roll it down
>”hey dude, can you unlock my door?”
>....
>”why?”
>harpy laughs nervously 
>”because I’m coming with you, why the fuck else?”

>...
>”no. This is where we part ways.”
>The broad shakes her head no
>”I can’t fucking hoof it that fast, and flying makes me exposed. A car would be low profile.”
>I shake my head no in return
>”not gonna happen”
>harpy glares at me like an angry parents
>”be a shame if those dudes caught me and I told them your name and gave a description.”
>She’ll tell them who I am?
>Fuck, don’t want to do this, but...
>”be a shame if I put a shotgun slug in your chest.”
>the bird grins widely, looking more like a Cheshire Cat than a person
>”think you could really fucking do that before I shot you? Didn’t you learn cars are just shitty metal coffins?”
>Threatening me back?
>fucking bitch
>....
>damn it, she makes a good point
>At least I don’t have to shoot her
>I’m tired anyways
>unlock her door
>”don’t scratch the leather, it’s real, not the fake plastic shit.”



>the bird scrunches into my car, pushing the seat all the way back to get her long legs comfortable
>start it up and get on our way
>pull out of the parking garage, driving away like nothing ever happened
>and nothing did ever
>I was never here
>Johnny law got called and showed up, reports indicated a disgruntled employee came in and decided to go postal
>what a sad day for them
>funny, especially since the news article was drafted by me yesterday
>but hey, cash greases the wheels of business seamlessly
>everyone has a price
>our detectives are good enough folk to know to stay out of the way when one of us gets involved
>”So, why the hell a Delorian? Really?”
>damn bird
>shrug off the question
>”Boss said to pick a car, I said a black Delorian. Simple ‘as. I really like them.”
>The broad snickers a little
>”You know these piles of cans were complete failures right?”
>I feel my eye twitch a bit, the same type of twitch you get when you're on the bus and the kid behind you starts screaming
>”I’d think you’d know what a real failure was if you’d look in the mirror”
>Zeegle laughs at me
>”Look dude, I’m sorry you have to cope with the fact you can’t go zero to sixty in under a minute by replacing the real seats with leather. Seriously, who are you trying to impress?”
>Fucking bird
>In my car
>Sitting on my leather
>Ungrateful prick

>I knew harpies were bad, but this is something else
>Glare over at the harpy as I drive down the empty night street
>For a weekend on the outskirts of Vegas, it is awfully quiet
>Have my phone hooked up to the radio, playing https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NEAlRCg5haM
>Get on the freeway and start heading to the main city
>”Hey dude, can I change the station?”
>Look at the bird
>This feels like riding with that nasty aunt that is always critical of your life decisions
>”it’s on bluetooth.”
>”Well skip the song then.”
>Begrudgingly hit skip to get her to shut up
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnopHCL1Jk8 Starts playing
>Broad snickers again, acting like a fucking freshman in highschool who thinks she’s hot shit
>The same type of broad who’d get her face knocked in with a metal lunch during lunch
>What's up with this bimbo bird?
>I save her life, give her a damn ride, and yet here she is complaining
>You have to be grateful when someone goes out of their way to do something, and yet here she is being a bitch
>Maybe I should have just shot her
>”Anything else you want to complain about here chief? Anything else on your mind?”
>Zeegle makes a big show of humming to herself and thinking
>Scratching her chin and smiling 
>”Why the fuck a Delorian? Is it for resale value or something? You do know that cars depreciate when they get taken off the lot, right? I mean come on, not like you got something of value like surplus or shit. Nobody’s gonna want this tin can machine in two years when it shits the bed.”
>Bloods boiling 
>ears feel like they are on fire
>I hate this bird

>Voice starts getting an agitated edge to it
>”It’s not about compensating or value , it’s about just having something nice that you like, you know? Any reason why I can’t enjoy things? No. I got the money for it and I want it. That ain’t a good enough reason?”
>Bird shrugs like she ignored what I just said
>probably because she did
>”maybe for you it is, but you have to think about the future. Think about it, stockpile some gold, get a few nice surp guns, maybe a few potions, good stuff that you can use, Not a fucking back to the future nostalgia trip. If I wanted a black Delorean I’d as a homeless man for his booze cans and a sharpie.”
>that’s fucking it
>turn off the freeway, going up the off ramp
>drive along the side streets
>I’ve had enough of this
>my patience is finite, and I have my limits
>and fucking hell she is crossing them
>pull up to a McDonald’s parking lot off the side of the freeway
>the broad is happy
>”we stopping for food? Thank god I’m starved”
>shake my head
>”no, you’re stopping. Outta my damn car, right now.”
>jab my fingers towards the door, pointing at it
>The bird gives me a confused look
>”what? Why?”
>Why? Fucking why?
>sit in my seat looking directly at her
>”look, I let you out at the club, I let you in my car, I do acts of charity for you, and all I’ve heard outta your trap is fucking nagging and complaining. You come into my car, my fucking nice car, and insult it, I put my ass on the line reaching you and what thanks do I get? You blow out my fucking eardrums. I’ve had it with you, so get lost and go fuck yourself.”


>the harpy has a nervous smile on her face
>”y-you can’t just kick my ass out here. I’m fucking broke, down to my last half tube of 808, and only have a mag and a half of nine-mil for my Sterling.”
>her voice is half panicked, half in disbelief
>grab the birds wrist
>take two dollars out of my cup holder and slap them into her hand
>”well that’s your problem, get yourself a soda and a cheeseburger and think about how to solve it without me.”
>The broad stares at the two bucks in her hand
>”t-this isn’t even enough for that...”
>”well sweetheart, that’s your problem, now get the fuck outta my car.”
>the bird looks at me in disbelief 
>I swear I can see little tears forming in her emerald eyes
>not my problem
>she lets out a grumpy humph and swings up the Delorean door
>she uneasily stands up and grabs her bag
>slings it over her shoulder before grabbing the door with both hands and slamming it down, looking more like an embarrassed peacock than anything else
>watch as she trudges off to the McDonald’s, kicking a can through the parking lot
>so long bitch, maybe next time don’t be so insufferable
>switch out of park and go back down the road
>I need to get home, eat, and sleep
>it’s been a long night 
>stars and moon in the sky highlighted by the neon of the nearby casinos look nice
>grab my phone and dial up a number
>time for my after work report
>hear the Boss’s phone ringing
>Picks up after a few times
>”Hello? Who is this? What do you want?”
>The boss’s voice is weird
>Smooth and craggly all at once, harsh and melodic
>Drow voices are weird
>”Hey Boss, got done with the job. Things… well they went, you know?”
>”Ay! Kasino! My man, great to hear. Or, maybe not good to hear. So it went less than smooth?”
>I Shrug, though my boss can’t see me
>”Ran into someone at the club, a harpy, maybe a seagull, but I ain’t too sure. Said her name was Zeegle or something. She helped me bust up the place, but I ditched her at the local mcdonalds. She seemed like a liability. Don’t think she’ll sing or anything, seems like she got a target on her back by the looks of it.”
>I hear my boss’s end go silent
>”A… Zeegle, you say? Zeegle Segall?”
>...
>”Yeah? Something like that? You got a file on her or something?”
>Ah shit, maybe I should have merced her
>I hear a long, drawn out sigh
>”Let’s just say for now this *Segall* has been giving a lot of people trouble for a bit now.”
>great, just great
>”Want me to go back and pop her in the head? I’ll do it, no charge.” I say with a laugh
>Please say yes, please give me a reason to do it
>God please let this happen
>I can hear my boss humming to himself
>He does that when he’s thinking hard about something
>Theres a long, drawn out “aaaahhhh” of revelation 
>He has an idea
>And hopefully it involves me putting her dead body in a shallow grave out in the quarry
>”No no, not yet, she’s much more valuable to us alive… Hmmmm…”
>....
>Oh no
>I don’t like where this is going
>I know this tone of voice
>This is the weasel deal voice
>This is his “Good idea for me, but pretty damn hazardous for Kasino” voice
>”You’re a good worker Kasino, how would you like to earn some bonus pay?”
>I grit my teeth, hesitating if I want to find out or not
>But I know my boss isn't asking me, he’s TELLING me
>”Sure thing boss, what is it?”
>I can hear that damn drow smiling through the phone
>”How would you like to keep a very close eye on her while I get some things sorted out?”
>Ah shit


>Damn it
>Damn it 
>Damn it damn it 
>DAMN IT FOR FUCKS SAKE
>I’m filled with more vinegar and piss than a prisoners homemade communion wine
>I’m going back the opposite way I wanted to be heading
>I don’t often disagree with my boss, especially when he is so willing to keep my wallet full
>But Mother Mary and jesus have mercy because I’m about to fucking lose it
>The mirror image of where I just was driving is mocking me
>like walking backward down the stairway to heaven, a slow descent back into hell
>the opposite of happiness and joy, relief and luck
>flashing lights mocking me and my work I did earlier
>cruel parodies of the club I was in
>I liked the neon driving back
>it was nice
>like a refreshing shower after a long day
>bleeding into my bones and taking away the fatigue
>a softness on the eyes like the look of an old lover
>but going back...
>The neon isn’t so nice now
>It boils my blood and salts my wounds
>I hate it
>I’m wearing my shades though it’s dark
>helps me see better, simple as
>somethings fluttering up on the dashboard, being blown by the air from the vents
>like a paper or the likes
>flys and smacks me in the face
>grab it and avoid crashing through the center median
>fucking hell
>tonight ain’t my night, I’ll tell you that
>look at the feather
>like that of a pigeons, maybe a raven even…
>white in the same way sugar is white
>refined and sapped, all the color looking like it was sucked out
>in my hands it doesn’t even feel right
>this ain’t a fucking seagull feather
>it’s something that is trying to be what it ain’t
>and it pisses me off even more

>I pull up to the McDonalds
>Maybe she wandered off and got killed
>She better have
>If I have to track her down I’m going to be even more pissed
>Luckily, I see her sitting there
>sitting… on the curb
>Instead of inside
>damn it
>She’s staring at the ground and hasn’t noticed my car
>Drinking from a cup, chewing on the straw
>Her entire demeanor is distressed
>She seems on the verge of tears
>stupid fucking bimbo broad
>I swear to God if she makes this harder than it needs to be I’m going to give her a real reason to cry
>swing up the door on my Delorean
>Jump out of the car and close the door, slamming it harder than I intend in my own rage
>I can feel the piss and spit in my blood boiling
>The sound of this draws her attention
>She locks eyes with me
>I can see her frown slowly split into a smug grin, the type that just makes you want to knock the person's teeth out with your boot
>”Alright, get your fucking ass up right now.” I say while jerking my thumb towards my car
>The bird has a smug grin on her face
>”So dude, you decided to come back for me?”
>Oh hell no
>Jab my finger at her like a warden at the inmate who thinks he’s hot shit
>”I didn’t decide shit, you hear? I had no say in this. You’re just a damn fucking lucky bitch. Now come on, you're getting in my car.”
>The bird gives me a once over and shakes her head
>”I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what you got planned and what we're doing.”
>I don’t have the time and patience for this
>”Why the fuck you want to know? Weren't you just pissed because I kicked you out? I’m letting you back in
>That grin on her face gets wider
>She knows something is up
>”Why so sudden dude? Why you wanting me to come with? I don’t think some little spaz like you would have such a sudden change of heart, if you even got one of those.”
>Fucking damn it
>She’s got common sense at least, and not just a little spite

>No use in prolonging this longer than it needs to be, I have things to see and do
>”Alright, heres the short. I really don’t like you too much, infact, I was pretty happy that I never was going to have to see your sorry face ever again. But I had the bright idea to talk to my boss about you, and he was interested in your talents. He’s willing to hire you.”
>The bird gives me a suspicious look
>She knows something is up
>”A job eh? After you just talked about what I did in the club? Really?”
>I give her a curt nod
>She seems to be entertaining the thought of it
>Honestly, she’d be a retard to say no
>Doesn't seem like she’s got anyone to lay low with, no food, no ride, heat on her, and not enough cash to even keep bullets in her gun
>”Nah, fuck that.”
>...
>yep, just as I thought
>She’s fucking retarded
>Unbelievable
>”Why not, come on? Really letting the golden goose get away?”
>She just shrugs
>”Not with just that bare ass explanation there, theres more shit that you need to unpack. What are the fucking details? Come on, you're the one wanting me, sell me on it dumbass.”
>She looks so damn cocky and proud of herself
>”I’ll tell you when we get back to my place, how’s that sound?”
>She looks at me like *I* am the retard
>”Go back to your place, where you could shoot me in the back of the head and dissolve me in your bathtub? No thanks.”
>Hmmm, she’s got a good point on that…
>The bird gets up off the ground and stretches, looming over me and showing off her bleached white feathers
>”Of course, you could always spill the fucking beans over dinner… Been a bit since i've had any damn thing to eat, and a meal *just might* win me over. That’s what your boss wants, right?” She says with a smirk
>Ah, now I get it
>The fucking bird just wants a free meal
>cunning flying rat pigeon

>”Didn’t you just eat? What about the money for a burger?”
>The broad laughs at me
>’Dude, really? Drink is a buck plus tax, burger is a buck and a half. I could only get one, so I chose the drink because I was thirsty and could get refills. Been forever since I've had Dr.pepper”
>Really?
>”Should've just got the burger and  a water cup, filled that up with soda. It’s free.”
>The bird looks at me like she's genuinely offended
>”You take me for a fucking thief or a nigger?”
>.....
>Yeah, I aint even gonna acknowledge that
>I let out a long, very drawn out, very VERY tired sigh
>I’m just going to do what the boss is gonna want me to do
>Nothing more, nothing less
>”Come on, get the fuck inside before I change my mind.”
>The bird smiles at me
>”I’m so damn glad we can agree to this shit.”
>Shake my head in disbelief
>The things a good worker gotta do…
>”What the hell were you doing out here anyways? There's a perfectly good dining room inside.”
>She just shrugs absentmindedly
>”Eh, fucking manager thought I was a hooker whore or something. Told me to sit outside.”
>fuck
>Figures, right?
>Everyones gonna think i’m with a whore
>”Well you got the damn assets for it, that's for sure.”
>Bird looks at me suspiciously 
>”Watcha mean by that, dude?”
>Shake my head, would've been better just saying nothing. 
>”Take it at face value. Let’s get a fucking burger already.”



>We go inside the mcodnalds
>it aint a happy mcdonalds 
>it’s one of the modern ones, the type they tried to make have a cafe or starbucks vibe but failed miserably at because it’s a mcdonalds and not a cafe or a starbucks
>I can feel the smug aura of the bird behind me
>She’s cooing like a pigeon, reminds me of a smug child humming happily after getting her way
>I already know what I want 
>The Oni manager working at the register recognizes me
>He gives me a curt nod
>Give one back
>I got connections and people I know all over
>Pays to make friends at the Casinos and card houses
>I already know what I want
>Double Quarter pounder combo, large frie, no ketchup or mustard, add mac sauce
>Like a Big Mac but much better
>It aint real food, but it works for this late at night, and I don’t feel like cooking
>Manager Oni asks if that will be all
>I grit my teeth
>I want to say “Yes”, but…
>”That, and whatever the fuck the dang broad wants.”
>Manager Oni glares at the tall harpy behind me
>”Youre with the hooker?”
>I shake my head
>”She aint a hooker, not exactly.”
>Manager shakes his head
>Gesture for Zeegle to go up
>Birds just looking at the menu, eyes going back and forth like a Choir boy analyzing the bible for the priest
>Scratching her chin, posed like a statue from the Italians renaissance
>Contemplating the fucking thing like she’s the greatest philosipher of our time
>It’s annoying
>Point again
>”You can order, you know?”
>She ignores me and keeps looking
>Mother fucker
>”Hey bird, fucking order already.”
>She glares at me
>”I’m just looking, fucking hell dude, calm your ass.”
>the audacity of this bitch
>She walks up confidently to the counter
>Looks back to me slyly
>”I’ll take what the dude got...”
>At least she got good taste
>”Alright, your total is-”
>Harpy laughs
>”I didn’t say I was finished.”
>Phrase catches me off guard
>oh mother fucker

>”Excuse me?”
>She smiles and shrugs, flashing her pointy teeth the same color white as her feathers
>”You said ‘whatever the fucking broad wants’, and I’m getting what I want.”
>OH YOU BITCH
>That damn smug smile on the damn blonde bimbo broad sponger
>”I never said that.”
>Bird considers what I’m saying 
>”But you DO want me to consider working with you, right dude? Wouldn't showing some hospitality be good?”
>This broad aint good for my blood pressure
>Jam my hands into my taxi jackets pockets
>”Just fucking order.”
>I can hear Zeegle giggling
>and she rattles off the rest of her order
>20 Nuggets, a filet o’ fish, a mcdouble and mcchicken combo, three large fries, and two applepies
>She wanted icecream but the machine was broken, as usual
>Thank christ for that small blessing
>Not that it’s much
>”Will that be all?” says an exhausted Oni
>Zeegle looks at the menu again
>”You got toys, right? Happy meal, with a girls toy. One of the little dolls. All fries, choccy milk”
>Of course
>One little cherry on top
>Go up to pay
>See the total
>mother fucker
>Could've gotten a damn fancy steak and lobster dinner at one of the local casinos for this 
>Note to self: next time the boss wants me to be a head hunter confidence man and it involves a bird, take her to the local buffet and bankrupt them 


>Put in the order and get our drink cups 
>Get a cup of Dr.pepper
>Zeegle follows suite, making a suicide soda with no ice
>Fucking disgusting
>sit down at a table with her
>face her sitting opposite
>she’s staring at me
>Really staring
>Staring like I’m some fucking bug faced china man
>”why the hell you got your sunglasses still on? You a fucking blind ass or something?”
>Ah, my fucking sunglasses
>Of course
>”Actually they’re enchanted, help me see when it’s dark. Got them from my boss.”
>Zeegle rolls her eyes, sipping her soda
>”wow, fucking magiced yourself up a pair of NODs. Brilliant. Maybe your boss will give you am enchanted can on a string next, that way you can talk to each other far away!”
>The birds shit eating grin is pearly white
>Laughing at her own damn joke like it’s the pinnacle of comedy
>Her laugh turns into a snicker
>”Ah, but fuck that. Anyways, your boss, the job, spill the beans dude. Sell me on it.”
>Wait what the fuck?
>Let’s back up a second
>”Didn’t you want to eat first?”
>She shrugs, dripping soda from her straw onto her mouth
>”Eh, worst case if I don’t like what you're putting down I take my food and wander off into the night like a hamburglar.”
>The bird sets down her drink and sits up, leaning across the table
>”Of course, If I like it, then you can take me home and I’m all yours.”
>She says it loud enough for the manager to take a second glance over in my direction 
>Damn it
>Doesnt help her fucking bird cleavage is hanging out and shes giving the stupid winky eyebrows
>Practically shove her out of my face
>”Fucking hell, act respectable. You want to hear about it or not?”
>The harpy is laughing as she sits back down, gulping down her soda
>”Sure dude, go for it.”
>Let out a long sigh
>”Alright, so, the jo-”
>The sound of a straw sucking an empty cup stops me in my tracks
>”Hold up, refill”
>...
>Mother fucking bird

>The harpy goes and gets her refill before coming back
>”Alright, continue, I’m all ears”
>...
>I’m a good worker
>This isn't for me, this is for the boss
>I keep having to remind myself of this
>If I wasn't such a good worker I wouldn't be doing this
>Time to let out my whole spiel for the bird
>“Aight, so, this is a long term gig, you understand? Once you sign on, that’s it. You’re ours. No bitchin out, got it? You get gear on your back, food in your stomach, some cash in your pocket, and a bed to put your head on at the end of the day. And in return? You do what the boss says when he says it. Youre on call 24/7, no matter what. Have to wake up at 4:00am because some fuckhead summoner decided to bring back the third reich in a mall plaza? Deal with it. Have to shoot your favorite bartender because it turns out he was pocketing cash from the register? Too bad. You think you can do that?”
>Zeegle just looks at me with the straw hanging out of her mouth as she chews on it
>Her face is bored
>”Wow, way to make it sound edgy dude. Really, top notch overplaying. Not like I haven't done any of that before you retard.”
>She tosses the chewed up straw in my general direction before going and drinking more of her soda
>”What if I don’t join? Let me guess? ‘Yooza hafta sleep wiff da fishes’ or some mafia bullshit like that?”
>I feel my ire rising again at this bird
>”Something like that, yeah.”
>She snickers at me, flashing her teeth
>”ah, ‘sumthing like dat’, you're too predictable, you know? And you're the best these guys got? No fucking wonder your boss wants me.”
>...
>its for the boss Kasino, keep your cool
>The bird seems to be considering it
>”Seems like a good gig…”
>Ah thank fuck
>I was worried I would have to-
>”... If I was as much as a dumbass as you are, which is a lot, and I’m not. So, nah, pass.”
>...
>MOTHER FUCKER
>I can feel my combined fatigue, tiredness, hunger, and anger rising into an incomprehensible emotion
>I grit my teeth, and try to force out the words as nicely as I can
>”Why. Not?”
>Zeegle raises a hand
>”First, who the fuck are you? Second, who the fuck is your boss? Third, why does he want me so bad? If it was just a passive thing I know you would be out of here by now, but your boss really wants me, so why?”
>The birds eyes have a cunning edge to them now, she knows something is up
>”He thinks you'd be a good worker after what you did at the club.”
>The bird snickers again
>”You see, thats bullshit dude. Unless you gave him an intense play by play, video footage, and a fucking orchestra giving background music, I doubt any half assed thing you said on the phone could have persuaded him.”
>I hate her
>I hate her, because shes not wrong…
>she’s a little too damn smart
>Probably whats kept her dumb ass from being killed
>”I want the truth Kasino dude, of course, not like you’ll give me it….”
>The truth, right
>how the fuck do I do that?
>especially when I don’t want her to find out the whole truth…
>”... so I’m going to take the truth from you.”
>wait now hold on a second
>I don’t like that tone of voice
>The harpy is digging around in her coat for something
>Pulls out a small glass vial filled with a strange looking viscous liquid
>She’s grinning mischievously 
>”Now dude, I think you might know what this shit is.”
>Do I know?
>Maybe I do….
>And I don’t like it
>”Truth oil?”
>The bird nods
>I’m fucked
>”I’ll take it you're familiar with this?”
>I nod back to her
>I can’t let my composure fail, but that shit makes me uneasy
>”You know what to do with this right? Just rub it on your hands, and interviews go a lot easier.”
>The weird truth serum or whatever you call it
>That shit is bad luck
>Ive only used it twice before, and it gives off really bad vibes
>one time I used it on someone to get answers, another time the boss used it on me
>I don’t like it at all
>some dick head decided to take “liar liar pants on fire” and make it a real thing
>don’t know how, but it knows if you lie
>and it reacts
>little white lie? Small sizzle, maybe tiny smoke, nothing more than a small cigarette amount
>blatant or complete lie?
>burst into flames 
>like a chefs hibachi grill when they do the onion trick at one of the fancy joints on the strip
>and trust me, it hurts like all hell
>i don’t like that shit
>not at all
>I’d take my chances with Rooskie roulette than that devils piss
>and the bird 
>she’s happy 
>”what’s wrong Kasino dude? Scared of the truth?” 
>Those emerald eyes are evil looking
>Awful, insidious
>They poison that grin like spoiled cream in a sauce
>She sticks her hand out, gesturing for me to do the same
>”Come on, *hand* it over…”
>I shake my head 
>”No fucking way. I’ll buy you burgers, I’ll drive you around, but no way I’m letting you touch me with that stuff.”
>The bird looks at me smugly
>”Why’s that Kasino dude? Surely there is nothing you're hiding from me, right? All you have to do is not tell me a lie. I don’t know why you're so worried.”
>Her tone is mocking and sarcastic
>”If you don’t put it on, I’ll just wander off into traffic. I’m sure that will make your boss VERY unhappy.”
>Ah this bird
>This damn bird
>I've had easier times dragging information out of mute bastard gnomes from the CIA 
>But, this isnt on my terms, or my turf
>I’m at the mercy of two different people, two different goals
>I just want to get home, take a nice long shower, and sleep until noon
>not do a trade deal between two nuclear powers in a mcdonalds 
>I don’t want to do this
>but
>I’m a good worker
>I have to do this
>Begrudgingly stick out my hand, palm up, as if I’m about to receive a gift
>”Just do it.”
>The birds smile becomes even more wicked
>”I’m so glad you agreed.”