#{ but i can't help the chaossss~ }

[nightmarefuele]

@apphrodite | here.

Bouncer One screws up his nose, watching Aftershave leaf out that envelope. Sends this look to Bouncer Two, all, We got a situation on our hands?

❝ Sweet as you seem, ❞ Aftershave tucks the yellow thing in real close (he even backs off a step - some muscle he is), because he wasn't expecting that, this real unruffled attitude about the lady, " I got orders -- "

And Thing One's hand swoops in, snatching that package so quick that Two's got his piece out and showing by the time Aftershave completes his spin. Sees it, which is just this slick Beretta number, but Two's thumb in the danger zone. Ready and waiting.

❝ Think we're just gonna let you walk with this? Shiiit ... ❞ Coaxing the envelope open, One is. Angling and squinting a look inside ...

Then all that throbbing sound in the place flattens out DEAD.

One and Two angle their heads (in order) around. There's a crackle, a fuzzy blanket of noise in the neon, come up through every speaker in the place like floaties to swimming-pool surface.

Thdump-ump, invisible microphone coming on.

❝ Well, now. Don't you fine fellas look like somebody spit in your cereal? Aht-ta-ta-ta-ta, uhh, no -- I wouldn't try to walkie your boys out there. Y'see, they're-eh, receiving a standing mutilation. ❞

Murmurs starting to bubble up from other rooms; that dance floor below, getting topsy-turvy-er by the second. Panic.

❝ Oh, and: every digital or analogue signal your little operation in there relies on to com-mun-i-cate runs through one lonely little private service, which, as of now, happens to be out of commission. So. Seeing as your mob employers don't give out handbooks for this sorta situation, why don't I reveal your cards? I have twenty barrels of gasoline rigged to blow in some very specific spots. ❞

Now people are screaming. (Well -- it's more like yelling, with these little yelps in-between; how much more does he gotta spell it out for them?)

❝ My demand is simple: one of you is gonna get me upstairs. I have a few requests to discuss with your employer ... Ta' do that, I need someone he trusts. And I believe Mizzz Beck-y here just volunteered herself. ❞