As Jason sat there, nursing the cold glass of water, his hooded face suddenly went taut as he noticed someone enter the building. It was a rather large man, beefy with a beer belly, and he had on what appeared to be an ill-fitting suit that had grease and whatever-the-fuck stains on the front. The man had what appeared to be a bulky suitcase in his fat hands, and his pig-like eyes wandered over every single face in the bar, before finally resting on Jason's table. "Time to get this show on the road..." He grumbled, barely audible as the man seemed to perk up and walk fast towards his table. His grip on his switchblade got too tight, causing his knuckles to pale and pop as the man got closer. This man...this man was very, very well-known in the underground for hosting fighting rings and dog pits, along with a rather well-known drug-smuggling ring that went throughout the sewer system of Trip City. He couldn't mess this deal and delivery up; it could seriously mean his livelihood...and Whatever is In The Sky knows that he spent too much sweat, tears, and literal blood on staying alive.

"Jasoooon!" The man yelled out in an obnoxiously accented voice as he stood with his arms wide open; [i]Like a dick[/i], Jason noted, peeling his lip back in barely concealed disgust. Standing, Jason gave the man a stiff hand-shake, dully noting that his hands felt like sand-paper and sweat mixed together. Not a very good feeling. "Sit, sit, let's talk business." The large man sat, the chair creaking ominously, and Jason dully followed suit. Without hesitation, Mr. Vicorelli smiled a gap-toothed smile, lugging his suitcase onto the table and spilling water onto the floor. Jason absent-mindedly fixed the glass upright, his eyes narrowed as the suitcase was opened - revealing five small, tennisball-sized pods. Containing what? He didn't want to know.

"Tell me, what is this?" The man's smile was fixed.

"Contraband that needs to be delivered." Jason said flatly, scooping up the orbs and pocketing them. "Where to?" The man, surprised by the abruptness, only chuckled jovially and closed his eyes. "Past Rat's Nest; place it in the trashcan fifty feet from the gray-roofed orphanage, and knock twice on the lid before leaving." Eidetic memory automatically memorizing the place, Jason mentally grunted as he stood. "It'll be done. Where's the pay?" 

"You'll get it." 

[i]Fucking-[/i] He cut himself off. He couldn't be impatient; they would pay him, or he would rip their throats out. Or they would beat his ass. Whichever happens first. Scowling, he headed towards the door, ignoring the sound of laughter from the fat man behind him.