Member
princess
Remram
SilverSpring
DWGJay
Half Pint
Mistress Dizzy
SkyeOfStars
Infinite Cosmos
deegee
DClassifiedMichael Rowling
"I'm telling you. The girl takes food stamps!" Mike exclaimed as his eyes peered widely into the rearview mirror of his vehicle at an older overweight gentleman seated in the rear passenger side seat. Mike was currently driving through Midtown to get to Uptown.
"Don't feed me that bullshit… You kids always try to sensationalize shit." The passenger spoke, not amused by Mike's somewhat playful tone. The man, Mr. Fiorillo spoke like he had smoked cigarettes while in diapers with how raspy his voice was. Mike just shook his head, as the situation couldn't be helped. Sure, Mike thought what he tried to explain to the passenger was funny, especially because this geezer was trying to solve a case of infidelity by his rather young girlfriend. Sure, she was using him for the money, sure he was upset that it was most likely true, but a bartender exchanging information for food stamps of all things was where the gold was.
"Cutting out the food stamp thing… I hear she's legit. I don't think she's a PI, but you're a pretty established guy, so someone must have seen or not seen something with your girl." Mike turned on some seriousness, though not genuine, it would work. The man paused as he stared out the window.
"Nah. Just too many eyes and ears in my private life. Info like that gets passed around and packaged as gossip. I'll ask her myself." Mike shook his head at this with a bit if a frown.
"So she has the chance to lie?" Mike knew it wasn't appropriate to say something like this, but he couldn't hold his tongue. Besides, he had grown to like Mr. Fiorillo. He was like a fatter discount Robert De Niro, and Mike was 90% sure the guy is a part of some sort of mob family. And that is exactly why Mike did not leave off with THAT question. "What if I could get you some solid info myself. I make a living driving around this whole city and I already know about the situation. I'm good for it. I can be… Oh fuck..." Mike let out as his attention was pulled towards the burning building several blocks ahead. "Nope! Fuck that." Mike immediately swerved his vehicle into an alley, so he could get around the wall of traffic that was ever growing ahead of him. Mike was not a hero nor a villain. He was a man trying to get paid.
Mike had the capability to save people like one of the many vigilante variants in New Haven or cause mayhem like the criminal ones, but he wasn't very interested. Mostly because he hated his ability. Who the fuck wants to be a roach? Who the fuck wants to be saved by a roach? He always thought. Doing bad would fit the profile, but he would just defer to the first question.
"Sorry for the quick turn. I gotta avoid this traffic." Mike explained and Mr. Fiorillo just waved his hand as if he were swiping away any assumed grievances floating in the air. Once Mike drove onto a main street, he swerved again, just missing several people being flung into the street. "Are you serious?!" Mike almost had the urge to stop, but it wasn't any of his business. He continued on his way to Uptown. Not this time, Murphy!
