Conversation · Cuno

He punches the air again. "Get your fucking nun ass out of here before Cuno fucks it dead." Another punch. "F***t. You think 'cause you took Cuno's speed, Cuno's gonna sob like a fg?"

Say nothing. (Change the subject.)

"Fuckin' tryin'a talk about Cuno's dad then can't handle it. Typical f****t shit." His face is redder than usual and so are his earlobes.

"Chances are you are going to turn into that."

"Fuck right I am." He punches the air again. "Now get your nun ass out of here before Cuno fucks it dead." Another punch. "F****t. You think 'cause you brought Cuno one gram of speed you're friends now?"

"Turn into..." He pants from exhaustion. "Cuno ain't turning into shit! Cuno is! CUNO IS THAT SHIT."

"Fuck right I am." He punches the air again: "Get your nun ass out of here before Cuno fucks it dead." Another punch. "F****t. You think coz you brought Cuno one gram of speed you're friends now?"

"Stop acting tough, kid. You don't have to be scared of him anymore."

"Cuno's not fuckin' trying to be tough!" He pushes on bravely. "This shit is real. Cuno's fucking violent dad's gonna be a vegetable -- Cuno knows that shit. Stroke shit, stomach fucked up, and..."

"Cuno's gonna go out like that too. Gonna be just like Cuno's violent dad. Speed shit, crime shit, fucking on the bed -- go out West Revachol-style."

"Whatever scary thing he might have been -- now he is nothing."

"Yeah, Cuno's dad is fucking nothing!" He pushes on bravely. "Fucking coma shit. Stroke shit. Cuno's dad is so fucking violent he's had a stroke many times. Shit..."

"Cuno's gonna have one too. Gonna be just like Cuno's dad. Speed shit, crime shit, fucking on the bed -- Cuno's gonna go out like Cuno's dad. Revachol West-style."

"It was what you said. Kim dressed up as a hooker, full drag. Distracted him."

The lieutenant flashes you a sharp look, but doesn't say anything.

Only his tightly closed lips betray the effort keeping silent takes him.

The next time you make statements like this I suggest you first change into something a bit less promiscuous than those sleazy robes, officer.

"Fuck outta here... Cuno made that shit up to demean you." He looks at the lieutenant, then the roaring dragon on your robes. Scratching the back of his head he says:

"Look, pigs. Cuno gets it. You don't wanna talk about it. Close-quarters combat shit, Cuno doesn't wanna talk about it either..."

"Combat trauma shit," he adds after a few seconds of sombre silence.

That room was so small. To be stuck in there with him... not an easy fight for a kid.

Should we ever face a totally unrealistic scenario like this, you would make a much more convincing hooker, officer.

"Fuck outta here... Cuno made that shit up to demean you." His eyes move between you and the lieutenant.

"Fuck outta here... Cuno made that shit up to demean you pigs, but..." He looks around. "Is that why your hooker-friend isn't here? Too ashamed to face the Cunn?"

He doesn't wait for your reply, but keeps going: "Look, Cuno's not judging. Cuno gets it. Tactical approach and shit. Hooker-style, covert ops, combat trauma shit. Whatever it takes, right?"

Sam Bo is an acronym for Samaran boxing. Graceful martial arts stuff. "Sam Bo style" implies stealth, cleverness, and cool. Just letting you know.

"Yeah, how are you still standing, pig? You sneak past him?"

"Yeah -- how the fuck are you still alive, pig?"

"There was a textbook with your name on it in the apartment."

"Yeah?" He turns even redder. "So fucking what?"

"It says Kuuno not Cuno. Kuuno de Ruyter."

"Fuck are you talking to Cuno about that kiddy shit?"

"That's a lame name, Cuno."

"Cuno knows it's fucking lame. That's why Cuno changed it."

"You can't fuck with Cuno!"

"I like it. Kuuno de Ruyter."

"He's tryin'a fuck you again!"

"Fuck outta here, Cuno knows it's fucking lame. That's why Cuno changed it. Cuno can change his name into anything. Gonna change my name into f****t."

"Don't change your name into that, Cuno!"

"Nothing."

"That's right. Fucking nothing."

"Okay. Let's conclude this business." (End the conversation.)

"Yeah, pig. This shit is done." He spits on the ground. Yellowish, foaming spit. "Now get the fuck outta Cuno's face, Cuno needs to drop the bomb."

"There were tons of unpaid utility bills there."

"Fuck right there were. Fuckin' three years or some shit."

You can guess.

"That's no place to live in. You have to find somewhere else."

"That's right, it's a shit hole. Cuno's gonna move underground. Le Royaume shit, ancient shit. Cuno's gonna live in a fucking catacomb."

"Yeah, in a tomb, Cuno!" The little one seems overjoyed at the prospect.

"Change of topic then."

"Cuno's got that shit under control."

"Let me guess. Cuno's dad doesn't give a shit about them."

"Yeah, that's right." He swells with pride. "Cuno's dad doesn't give a shit about that electricity and light shit. Just wants to pound on people and drink."

"Find a job. Pay them yourself. Your dad can't handle things anymore."

"Fuck that shit. Cuno's gonna move underground. Le Royaume shit, ancient shit. Cuno's gonna live in a fucking catacomb."

"I did right not to give you the drugs. Let's conclude this." (End the conversation.)

"That didn't change shit, pig. That only made things worse." He spits on the ground. "Cuno knows you only took 'em to get fucked up yourself. Pigs always be pretendin' about shit like that."

"I did right not to give you the drugs. Let's conclude this." (End the conversation.)

"That didn't change shit, pig. That only made things worse. Fucking social worker shit... It doesn't work pig."

"It doesn't work, Cuno! Only our shit works."