Conversation · Cuno

She must repeat it. Use every chance to confirm that version of reality.

She tries to bind their fates together. She needs him. Bad.

"I looked around in there. It's not the easy life you've got going on in that apartment."

"The fuck do you know about Cuno's life? Cuno's got plans. Get the fuck out of here."

"Yeah, we got plans."

Six metres underground, below piping from before the war -- the collapsed remains of the Martinaise storm drain system. There are two stolen flashlights with piles of batteries next to them, beside two bedrolls. In the dark, an opening into the lower tunnels...

"I'm keeping it. You don't need more drugs -- you're twelve." (Don't give it to Cuno.)

"All right..." He taps the side of his head. "Cuno knew you'd try that sneaky pig shit on him."

"Tell him, Cuno!"

"Cuno's got brains. This shit doesn't surprise Cuno." He squints at you. "So Cuno's gonna give you one more chance. Know this, pig -- shit is major."

"Major fucking choice, pig..."

"Cuno won't take this shit lightly. The pieces are moving, pig. This is fucking domino shit."

It's hard to see how not giving the boy a bag of amphetamine would cause some catastrophic cascade response.

Hard to see, but easy to feel. Somehow this will change things.

It's not hard to see at all. You hand out drugs to kids -- the lieutenant's faith in your judgement will diminish significantly.

Forget it.

"Tik-tik-tik-tik." The boy flicks an imaginary domino piece with his index finger. "Decision time. What's it gonna be? You gonna fuck the Cuno?"

"Okay, but just be smart about this..." (Give Cuno the vial.)

"All right, now we're talking. Whooh that's heavy..." He waves the minuscule bottle around, then slips it into his coat pocket.

"This is staying with me." (Don't give Cuno the vial.)

"Alright, alright..." He throws his hands up in the air. "You fucked the Cuno! Everybody, Cuno got fucked by his pocket pig -- just when we getting our business on, the pig throws it all away!"

"I told you he can't be trusted! I told you, I told you..." the little rat repeats it six or seven times. "I told you he'd steal the shit!"

"Relax C. We got plenty of kilo -- kilo underground, in the tree, this ain't about that." He turns to you.

"This is about you and Cuno. You mismanaged this shit. Now everything is fucked between us -- again. How are you gonna make this up to the Cuno, huh?"

He shakes his head in regret. "Cuno believes in second chances -- Cuno doesn't believe in third chances."

There is genuine disappointment below the act, sire.

In truth, Cuno doesn't really believe there's anything you can do to make up for this. The damage is irreparable.

"This is about you and Cuno. You mismanaged this shit. Now everything is fucked between us. How are you gonna make this up to the Cuno, huh?"

What, if any, is the downside of not giving the drugs to Cuno?

None that you can see.

No. You can see it. This young man has junior officer material in him. In another life, where he trusts you.

It's quite imaginable. You start handing drugs out to kids -- the lieutenant's faith in your judgement will diminish significantly.

Not like he thinks, but you can feel it. Somehow this will change things.

"I'm keeping it. And I'm doing it all myself." (Don't give it to Cuno.)

"All right, you fucking druggie..." He taps the side of his head. "Cuno knew you'd try that sneaky pig shit on him."

"I'm not ready to make this decision."

"The fuck are you talkin' about? Gettin' Cuno all worked up for nothing..."

"Been waitin' for you to fucking man up." He nods at the building behind him. "In there is Cuno's violent dad. On steroids. Cuno's dad does steroids and speed. If you can take him, you can have half the speed."

"How much material are we talking about?"

"Like half." He says very confidently.

"Half of what?"

"A baggie... but like in this vial."

That's half a gram, sir.

"Half a gram?"

"Yeah." The confidence is unwavering. "Half a G. Want it or not?"

"Who is your dad, Cuno?"

"Cuno's dad is a fucking monster," he says proudly. "He's the most violent man in Revachol. He doesn't give a shit about a single thing. He drinks too."

Are you sure you can take the most violent man in Revachol? In your condition?

Looks like we're looking at a close-quarters fight in some run-down drug den. Bongs falling, hookers screaming. You should use the environment against him.

You can't afford to take a hit from this guy. I mean, anabolic steroids... and speed. You're best off dodging blows, wearing him out until he has a heart attack.

You know how you'd be best off here? With a gun. Best have it in your hand when you go in there.

Don't expect to talk this one down. There are some situations your mouth can't get you out of.

You won't sweet-talk your way around this man. Good thing this psycho drug-boss is strictly optional.

You know how you'd be best off here? With a gun. I'd be the star of the show if you only had a working gun.

"But that's not very much material at all."

"Fuck you talkin' about. Half a G?! This shit is giant, grade A shit. So clean you can barely see it!"

You can barely see it because there's barely any.

"I've made up my mind, Cuno. And this is what's going to happen..." (Conclude.)

"Okay, Cuno's listening?"

"I'm going in there for justice. I'm a narc, Cuno. I'm going to confiscate that crap."