Sort of a gang, sort of an informant service. It all depends on who walks into her office...

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Penny leaned back in her vintage La-Z-boy recliner, a large orange tabby sprawled across her lap rather obscuring her mid torso from view. Her lip curled up on the right as she regarded the trio of tattooed toughs on the other side of her desk. It was a very spartan office, with bare walls and a green lamp hanging from the ceiling that cast an absinthe-worthy pallor to the faces of the four people in the room. There were no windows, and only two doors: one on the right, and one on the left.

"You see boys, piss poor planning makes piss poor performance, as my daddy used to say. And what gets pissed on the most among you up & comers? Logistics. You can make the drugs, you can find the drugs, you can shoot each other over turf, but do you know how to get your shit from Peach Trees to, say, Beacon Hill without catching the eye of Judges, let alone rivals who will shoot you as quickly to take your stash? Nope." She nonchalantly scratched the purring cat behind the ears.

"What you need is a third party. Smugglers. Escrow. UP fucking S, if you will. We give you that, for a percentage. We operate a sophisticated network of discrete delivery men and women, whom in turn operate on a need to know basis. We have a 90% success rate, pending the occasional Judge. How many of your operations have gone without a hitch?" She regarded the leader of the trio squarely, and noticed a twitch in the brow that suggested memory of a recent failure. One of his buddies glanced away for a moment.

"Uh-huh..." she continued, pushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, "Look, for a fifteen percent cut, no more than you'd pay in taxes for a legit business operation, you can greatly increase your frequency of successful deliveries of goods and of funds. Up it to an agreement for a twenty percent cut and we'll insure your transaction entirely." 

"Now, if you would like to engage in business, I will have you continue with my associate. If not, you may leave. Either way, you'll leave the same way you came in: blindfolded and transported. We'll take you back to that nice little park you started at. Peachy keen and none the worse for wear."

"We're in," the leader of the trio said gruffly. "Twenty percent. We've got slo-mo and - "

"Ah ah ah, not with me, darlin. With my sales associate. Think of me as... reception. I'll let The Captain know you're happy to work with us; he'll be terribly pleased.Through that door, to the left now. Ta ta." Penny raised her hand and gave a languid wiggle of her fingers as she looked down to the tablet she was reading on her desk. The toughs looked to one another, then shrugged and proceeded towards the door to the left as she tapped out a message on her tablet. As the door swung shut behind them in the next room, a spray of gas came from the ceiling over the toughs, knocking them out, and two of Penny's Pie Rats came to collect them and move them to another location to continue the business.

"...Just another day at the office, eh Captain?..." Penny mumbled, leaning down to snuggle her face against the cat's big head. The Captain kneaded his paws on her thigh contentedly.
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"Huggy Bear: Look man. I lay it out for y'all to play it out."
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