GinkyGotBack
A Very Good Boy
The Countdown till Daylight
A roaring fireplace bathes the living chambers of a well off individual in a warm orange glow. Beside the fire sits the affluent man in question, his eyes locked firmly on a large tome he holds loosely with one hand. Whilst he continues reading, the man reaches out with his free hand to take a drink from a cold mug kept off to the side on a table. He brings it to his lips and takes a small, restrained drink before placing it back down. He mindlessly licks the remainder of his drink off his lips, smiling slightly as he turns to the next page in his book. On the table, a drop of a dark amber liquid slides slowly down the side of the cup, leaving a red trail behind it made bright by the fire's light.
"I didn't do anything wrong," says a man with a heavy Irish accent. Maya Smithson sits across from the red-haired man in a dull white office, taking in his features. He's dressed in a plain white shirt under a pair of blue overalls, wearing one of those duckbill hats you see golfers wear, the ones that tend to make people look like a jackass. Her client, Dell 'Todd' O'Doyle is no exception as he wipes the coffee off his mouth and orange mustache with his arm. "I tell you, everyone's got it out for me in this city. I do my job better than anyone else can and they have the balls to say that I'm scamming them. Where the fuck do they get off? Cheap bastards, every last one of them. I've half a mind to pack up shop and relocate someplace else, you know what I mean Ms. Smithson?"
dae mec
A roaring fireplace bathes the living chambers of a well off individual in a warm orange glow. Beside the fire sits the affluent man in question, his eyes locked firmly on a large tome he holds loosely with one hand. Whilst he continues reading, the man reaches out with his free hand to take a drink from a cold mug kept off to the side on a table. He brings it to his lips and takes a small, restrained drink before placing it back down. He mindlessly licks the remainder of his drink off his lips, smiling slightly as he turns to the next page in his book. On the table, a drop of a dark amber liquid slides slowly down the side of the cup, leaving a red trail behind it made bright by the fire's light.
"I didn't do anything wrong," says a man with a heavy Irish accent. Maya Smithson sits across from the red-haired man in a dull white office, taking in his features. He's dressed in a plain white shirt under a pair of blue overalls, wearing one of those duckbill hats you see golfers wear, the ones that tend to make people look like a jackass. Her client, Dell 'Todd' O'Doyle is no exception as he wipes the coffee off his mouth and orange mustache with his arm. "I tell you, everyone's got it out for me in this city. I do my job better than anyone else can and they have the balls to say that I'm scamming them. Where the fuck do they get off? Cheap bastards, every last one of them. I've half a mind to pack up shop and relocate someplace else, you know what I mean Ms. Smithson?"
dae mec
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