Conversation · Cuno

"Have you come to make your offering to Cuno?"

"This is probably too lame for you, Cuno, but maybe you know someone..." (Hold out the Hjelmdallerman book.)

"Uh... Cuno doesn't fucking read!" He quickly glances at the fence. "Fucking book shit, fucks with your mind..."

"Cuno knows this four-eyed fuck, totally hooked on the book, can't get enough of this shit. Fucking sad really... Cuno could make mad money off him, exploit his disease."

"Who are you talking about, Cuno?"

"A guy Cuno knows!" He shouts at the fence. "Martin. From out of town. From Graad or some shit."

This boy of twelve does not know anyone from Graad, sire. We suspect the boy himself might be this mystery 'Martin'.

"Actually I wanna keep the book."

"Shove that shit in your fat ass and stop wasting Cuno's time if you ain't got anything to offer to the Cuno."

He's disappointed by your change of heart.

"You don't know anyone from Graad. You want it for yourself, don't you?"

"The fuck do you know what Cuno wants or knows, huh?" The kid lashes out at you. "Shove that book-hook in your fat ass and find something worthy to bring to the Cuno!"

"So you want the book?"

"Fine... Cuno's gonna take it off your fat ass. At least he's gonna make some paper off this shit..." He eagerly pockets the book. "Now, what do you want?"

"Fine... Cuno's gonna take it off your fat ass. At least he's gonna make some paper off this shit..." He eagerly pockets the book. "Now, what do you want?"

"Check out this bizarre drug I found." (Show him the pyrholidon.)

"No, you don't." He stops you. "No one is checking out anything. Put that away."

"Bitches slapping each other, fighting for Cuno's attention. Cuno likes this pole dancing shit -- but it's not good enough." He crosses his hands.

Kim is never going to be okay with you handing something like this off to a minor. This plan is either off the table or you need to do it when he's not around.

"Not this dreamer shit again..." Cuno slaps his face. "Why do Cuno's bitches always try and bring Cuno that lame sha-la-la-la-bang shit? Cuno's not a fucking witch doctor!"

"It was only once..." The little rat isn't having it. "And you fucking asked me to nick it, Kuuno!"

"No, I didn't..." The adolescent is momentarily disoriented. "It's fucking Cuno. Say it right, bitch, say it like it's said."

Kuuno. That's an Oranjese name.

"Anyway." He mentally props himself back up. "Cuno doesn't do that radioactive shit. Makes Cuno's dick fall off. Cuno's got a huge dick."

A pretty lame oranjese name. Nowhere near Cuno... The thought crosses your mind and then it's gone. Perhaps something for later?

"Let's rip some tar, Cuno." (Hold out the pack of cigarettes.)

"Put it away." The lieutenant crosses his arms. "The information here isn't worth it."

"Back off, fuck-eyes. Cuno is a man." He puffs up his chest. "Cuno can smoke if he wants."

The lieutenant doesn't like this. It may be less destructive to your working relationship to just come back alone later.

"See, Kim? Cuno is a big boy."

"MAN!" The screech from the red-haired goblin is nearly deafening.

"I'm not indulging that."

"You don't need to. He doesn't know anything."

"Oh, Cuno knows. Cuno knows shit," he squints at you. "Expensive shit. Mysterious shit. Killer shit."

He does not know killer related shit, sire. It's a falseness. He may know mysterious shit, however... it's hard to tell.

"You're right, I shouldn't give smokes to a kid."

"Fuck you too, piggo! Fuck you and your four eyed friend!" He shakes his head, disappointed. "Thought you wanted to make this right with Cuno..."

"See? He could know something. So how about it, Cuno?" (Shake the pack of cigarettes at the boy.)

"Okay, porkson..." He snatches it from your hand. "Tar keeps Cuno sharp, helps Cuno think. Cuno likes that brain-boost shit."

"We're cool now. But don't be pulling this shit on Cuno, or Cuno's gonna have to beat the shit out of you, again."

Historical revisionism has taken place.

"Okay, porkson..." He snatches it from your hand. "Tar keeps Cuno sharp, helps Cuno think. Cuno likes that brain-boost shit."

"Okay, man. Cuno is a man and men smoke. You want this?" (Shake the pack of cigarettes at the boy.)

"We may need his help. Who knows what he knows?"

"No -- what we need is to get back to work. He doesn't know anything."

"This is work. So how about it, Cuno? This can be yours." (Shake the pack of cigarettes at the boy.)

"Here's a drink, kid. It's alcohol. This should make us friends." (Extend the bottle of liquor.)

"Stay the fuck away from Cuno! You smell like bum shit!" He backs away from you, wrinkling his nose. "Cuno's not a bum. Cuno doesn't touch that shit."

"Why?"

"What, do you think Cuno's fucking eighty years old? Tryin'a bring me bum juice... make the Cuno paranoid!"

"You don't like alcohol?"

"Just because you get high off that shit doesn't mean Cuno has to fuck himself with that fermented," -- he points at the bottle -- "piss and shit mix."

"Tryin'a get a get a twelve year old hooked on the shit-shake..." He looks like he can't believe your depravity.

"Hmh..." the lieutenant mumbles optimistically. "Alcohol use has been declining in the under 16 bracket this past decade..."

This pleases him.

"Okay then."

"Whatever then."

"What are you doing?" The lieutenant's dark eyes peer into yours over his spectacles.

"Nothing, lieutenant. I don't want to get into this." [Leave.]

"I need to make truce with Cuno, offer him something."