Conversation · Logic

"Or else?" There is an audible clank as he lets a wrench drop into his toolbox.

"Haven't you heard? I'm the dirtiest cop this side of the river. I'll make life hard for you, using every connection I've got."

He thinks for a moment, then opens his mouth, but closes it again. Then finally raises his hands:

"Things are just way too hard for an entrepreneur in this city. It's not like we're not gonna turn the church into the wickedest club in East Revachol..."

"Because we are! We totally are!"

"We just gotta turn it into a speed lab first."

"You know, to get our foot in the door."

"I've heard enough."

"So... what now?"

This is it. Judgement time!

"Give me your cash." (Ask for a bribe first.)

"C'mon man..." He looks surprised. "Really?"

The young man doesn't move. His earrings rattle from the tension. With his jaw clenched, he says:

"No fucking way."

"Yes. Fucking. Way." The would-be leader points at his friend. His finger shakes in the air.

Without a word the other speedfreak pulls a red wallet out of the toolbox and hands it to you.

The disdain is palpable. His eyes pierce you like lightning, as he lets go of the wallet.

"Noid, give him the wallet."

"I have to look into the spooker situation before I can decide what to do with you." (Decide later.)

"We can continue on an amiable path, right? No more misunderstandings, no more lies." He nods, smiling cautiously. "Before you go, is there anything else you need?"

"Other than squeezing every drop out of us."

"Hush, Noid."

"Other than all our money."

"It wouldn't work without the lab. Do what you have to do to keep the club alive." (Proceed with both.)

"YEAHH!" The young man's smile widens to inhuman proportions. His teeth beam in the floodlight.

He looks almost innocentic, with that Harmon-Wowshi player raised up high. Could this be the certainty a spirit-of-the-world feels?

"Respectable. I'm really feeling the sines right about now."

"It's probably not going to be easy, the spookers in the church are not going to be happy about this."

"But you can just evict them, right? You're the law, man. You've got this." He seems to be getting jittery with excitement.

"It'll be tough, but we'll figure it out."

"I knew from the get go we could count on you." He looks at his friends. "We can make this work -- the dance club will have a future!"

"I'll go talk to Soona again, maybe there's a way to persuade her."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. We can manage it with her if we get inside..."

"Keep us updated about the situation." He thrusts his toothbrush towards you. "Maybe we can help somehow."

"Now give me the rest." (Ask for another bribe.)

"We don't have any more money! You robbed us blind."

Ask for a cut. It's the right time to become business partners.

"Pack up and report to Precinct 41." (Arrest them.)

He looks beat. "Okay," he nods. "What happens at the station?"

(Ignore the question.) "First I need to see all of your identification documents."

The would-be leader pulls out a card from his jacket pocket and hands it you. The name reads: 'Pete Andre.'

His friend hands you his papers. The name reads: 'Karl Holtzmann.'

"And your name was Germaine?"

"Germaine." The one with the large head looks crushed handing you his paper. The name reads: "Germaine van der Wijk."

Mark their names down on your paperwork and hand each their form.

"I guess that's that."

"Pack it up, Egg." He closes his toolbox.

Close to tears, the one with the large head hands you a card. The name reads: "Germaine van der Wijk."

"The case will be reviewed. You might get prosecuted, or not. We'll see."

"Fine... I guess we're truly done." He sighs.

"But first I need to see all of your identification documents."

"No, please!" The one with the large head presses STOP on the tape player. In the silence, you can hear the wind howl outside.

"There needs to be a club for anodic music in there. Everyone hates each other. Everybody hates it here, it's all just drugs and we're slaves and I can't... We are running out of time!" Without his smile he looks heartbroken. And older than you thought he was.

He looks almost as old as you.

"We need a win. I promise this will be a win! We won't cook speed in there, we'll do it clean, we'll do it true. We'll do it sober and real and beautiful. This will be a victory for the light."

This will be nothing.

You can hear the ice cracking underneath you. Outside on the pier the last century development crumbles in the wind, a grapeshot row of falling houses. And so does Rue Saint-Gérôme and Main Street. The Old Cinema is sinking underneath Villalobos...

"It wouldn't change a thing. It's too late. For everything. You're arrested." (Arrest them.)

"No..." He looks like he's at least 45 years old. "What does that even mean?"

"Man, that speech was beautiful. I think I've changed my mind." (Don't arrest them.)