Little Miss Muffet's, Bronx

Mickey was really getting sick of Miss Muffet. She wasn't all that nice to look at, and her voice grated on his ears a bit. She also'd gotten brave over the last few months. Still, he had his business here, and it needed to be handle quickly. In addition to his fencing and dealing, he did a bit of protection for some of the poorer Fable business, though it was really closer to blackmail. Muffet was one of his 'clients', though she'd started getting behind on the payments until she wasn't making them at all. Mickey figured it was time to remind her of why she needed the 'protection' in the first place. He was in his glamoured form now, and with Brick and Hoss flanking him the trio of extra-large men made for an intimidating sight.

"Muffet, I think I remember goin' over this conversation last week. When you keep my wallet light, I can't ensure that some hood doesn't decide that this would make a nice little stop in his robbery string." He said, his glamoured voice deep any gravely to match the large, bald ilussion. He puffed on his cigar and blew smoke in the woman's face with a wicked grin. "Hell, could be tonight, even. And let's not forget that glamour situation. Those boys've yours in the kitchen ain't gonna be payin' the 13th Floor's prices anytime soon. Pretty soon they'll be lookin' pretty inhuman, I'll bet. Be a damned shame if suddenly my supply were to run out an' I had to tell Cole that those boys need to be making a trip down to the Farm." He grinned around his cigar, taking another long puff.

"Am I making myself clear? I think I'm making myself clear."