Mall Fight RP: (CLOSED) (FINISHED)

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I open my palm to check the note scribbled there in chalk.
Yep. Still clear as day.

RaNDM G:
unit 2317

Hmph. You're still in the hundreds. It will take a short while before you reach your destination.

A SHORT WHILE LATER...

You reach your destination.

There's a padlock on the door. Pretty simple. You could kick it off if you don't mind the noise.

I pop out of the crate and use my lock picks on the padlock.

I lean over and whisper in Paddys ear.
"Yo. Is this Trilby's quest or something?"

I prepare my revolver. "If it is then I'm shooting him in the face. My quest has been due for too long."

"Air..." I wheeze.

"The crate is open."

"Oh. Well I meant uh...Heir."

"Course you did." I step inside the storage unit.

"Yes, Salt?"

I walk behind Paddy.

"As in Equius. He's uh like...my fourth favorite character."

"Uh huh." I fumble for a light switch.

"Because like...I see myself in him, y'know?"

"I bet you do." I find one.

"Sure you do Salt. You and your noodle arms."

"Hey, we're both engineers. Sorta. Well, I was."

"Good times."

"Before Tony fucking Stark tried to murder us."

"I suppose you do sweat a lot..."

"Good times."

You flick on the lights.

image

"Well Gentlemen, looks like we've found us a few snoops."

captcha: murphy's law

"My perspiration is under control dickweed."

I point my gun at the gangsters. "Where's the door."

"Oh. My. God! Are you guys like, old american Gangsters?"

I point my gun at what I'm fairly certain are the gangsters.

"What the hot one said. I mean-fuck."

I hand Salt a towel, and turn to the men in trench coats.
"Waaaaa? Snooping? Us? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHnooooooooooo we're your pedicure team. You did book an appointment, right?"

"Old Ameri- Can you believe this guy? You think we're playing a game, that's cute."

The short one kicks the gun out of Paddy's hand before kicking him in the shin.

"You'll get your door. After you spill why you stuffed our associate in a dumpster!"

"Your associate didn't happen to be some drug runners, did they?"

"Do any of you have instrument cases with Tommy Guns inside?"

I take out my nail polish and start polishing one of the gangsters hands.

"Associate?" I ask, catching my gun as it falls. "Which associate would that be?"

"...Sig, the fuck is with this towel?"

Saltarius:
"Your associate didn't happen to be some drug runners, did they?"

"Ugh, no."

MinimanZombie:
"Do any of you have instrument cases with Tommy Guns inside?"

"No!"

Sigma Castell:
I take out my nail polish and start polishing one of the gangsters hands.

"Gah, stop with the hand job buddy!"

Paddy the Second:
"Associate?" I ask, catching my gun as it falls. "Which associate would that be?"

Is what you would do, if you weren't doubled over and clutching your leg.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well, fuck it." I jump from the Mall Fight line to the American Gangsters line.
"I'm chilling with these dudes for a while."

I pass Salt my business card. It reads: "Sigma's Towel Emporium-Simply the best there is."
"We're an up-and-coming entreprenurial company, hoping to make a splash in this rough-tough world of back-room deals and political savvy."
I throw another towel at Salts face and continue polishing the gangster, this time his face.

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