Conversation · Cuno

"Get the fuck out of here, pig! Cuno doesn't have a magic tree house!"

"The dead man's clothes were in the trash container." (Point to the container.) "How did they get there?"

"Yeah, Cuno doesn't know shit about that. That shit is beneath Cuno."

"I need to know. It could be a lead in the investigation. Someone may have tampered with the murder scene."

"Listen! Listen!" He stops you. "Cuno doesn't care about this small-time shit. Just listen -- Cuno saw what you did there. Dumpster diving. Sad shit."

"Cuno could hook you up with some sweet rags. Shit like Cuno's wearing." He points to his pants. "Your size, good price, 500 reál."

Despite the early spring chill, the boy is wearing short track pants that leave his legs exposed below the knee. They look dynamic.

You'd have to be blind not to notice the giant white letters "F-A-L-N" running down his trouser leg.

"No. Cuno, you don't know anything about the tampering I'm investigating, and I already have pants."

"Whatever. Cuno was trying to help you. But you're too fat for FALN anyway, pig."

"Wait -- I asked you what happened to his clothes. You must have seen them lying around?"

"Look, Cuno ain't seen shit lying around, 'cept for that f****t up there." He points to the cadaver. "Now you want performance gear or not, grandpa?"

The lieutenant remains silent, but his expression couldn't say I told you so any louder.

"I might be interested in the pants. Let's talk about this later."

The boy shakes his head. "You need these pants. But you ain't gonna get these pants, pig!"

"That's what the f****t gets for trying to split us up, Cuno! NO FUCKING PANTS!"

"All right, piggo!" His face lights up. "Shit's rolling."

"Don't do business with the pig, Cuno! He's gonna steal all your money, Cuno!"

"We need the money, C! Cuno knows what he's doing." He turns to you. "Right when this body-shit is discussed Cuno will sell 'em to you."

"You respected the Cuno. Ten times discount to Cuno's personal pig." He gives you a wink and snaps his fingers. "Now let's get this weird shit done. Trash container shit, or something..."

"As you can see..." Cuno nods towards the fence. "Cuno and C don't trust you. Can't do business without trust."

There's more to his distrust than being a pig. He feels threatened by something obscure in you. What that is, however, remains a puzzle for now.

"Alright, entertain me -- what's so great about these pants?"

"Pig, these are FALN Modulars! Liquid fit, performance crotch, urban survival shit! Made in Mirova... by scientists. Pants scientists."

"Believe it, you need this shit..." He unzips his jacket to give you a quick peek at the plastic-wrapped pants. They are graphite-black and look brand new.

These could drastically improve your chances of survival in the urban wilderness.

Coach Physical Instrument endorses these pants. They are tartan-ready.

They will also make you into an idiot.

"Right. About something else, then..."

"Shoot that shit at Cuno, dumpster diver."

"There was also a mug in the trash." (Show him the mug.)

"The fuck? A mug in the trash? Is this about the fucking clothes again?"

"Yes. Does this adequate depiction of a South-Samaran man have anything to do with it?"

"Yeah, Cuno sees where this is going. Cuno's got that fast-brain," he whispers excitedly. "You saying you pigs are after the mug fucker -- coz he's the clothes fucker..."

"Can't hear you, Cuno! Speak louder, Cuno!"

"Not just that. I also think the hypothethical mug fucker lives in that apartment there." (Point to Gary's apartment.)

The lieutenant turns to see where you are pointing. He looks interested.

"Shit, that's tense..." He thinks for a moment. "Someone's going to the beatdown-basement, huh? Mug-guy gonna get tied to the radiator." He nods in approval.

The kid may have something there. He's already come up with an interrogation technique too.

"Cuno doesn't know who lives there. And if he did, he wouldn't squeal. But if you find out, maybe you can..."

...tell the Cuno who it was? He's curious. He likes putting 2 and 2 together here.

"Stop turning into a pig, Cuno! They're trying to get you hooked on the snitching!" She lets out a hiss, even meaner than before. "Get away from my Cuno, f****ts!"

"Yeah!" Cuno jumps back. "Get your bacon shit away! Cuno doesn't like to be seen with the popo. Get your shit done and out of Cuno's face!"

"Cuno doesn't know who put that shit in there. And if he did, he wouldn't squeal. But if you find out, maybe you can..."

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Cuno. Someone has tampered with the crime scene, cleaned some of it up."

"Yes, does this quaint, better-not-taken-out-of-its-historical-context mug have anything to do with it?"

"Yes. Does this racist mug have anything to do with it?"

"Actually, talking about this makes me uncomfortable. Let's back up a notch."

"Yeah, back out of this shit with Cuno."

"Back out and take your fat ass with you."

"I was wondering about that trash container."

"Don't be wondering about Cuno's shit, pig!"

"Okay, enough about this, Cuno. I've got other matters to address."

"Of course you do, fuckface."

"I got a very strong hunch there's something of importance in it. Something I must find."

"Fuck does Cuno care about your hunch? That's your shit. You figure it out."

Cuno is actually a little interested.

"Someone might have stashed something in there. Maybe there's even a lead..."

"Yes, yes, absolutely, absolutely... Why the fuck are you telling this shit to Cuno?!"

"Look, it's basic police work. If there's a trash container on the crime scene you have to investigate it."