Conversation · Gary, the Cryptofascist

Don't be so relieved yet, Gary. This bad cop may have been in your apartment, admiring your mug collection. Perhaps a little intimidation?

Hmm, does this mean you were in his apartment, admiring his colonial mug collection? Perhaps it would be interesting to tell him...

Wait, does this mean you've been in his apartment? On Evrart's behalf? That was his colonial mug collection -- perhaps this could soften him up further.

"My... mug? Why would you think that?"

His eyes widened at the sight of the mug. He's seen it before alright.

"I can see you recognize it. It's in your eyes."

"I may have had a similar-looking mug in the past, that's all."

"Still seems suspicious. Did I mention the mug was found at the scene of a lynching?"

"Okay, okay, I admit it. I threw the mug away in the trash container behind the hostel. I know I shouldn't have, and I am very sorry, officer." He pauses.

"You're not going to fine me, are you?"

"I would -- but I don't know how."

"There is no need, officer, I won't do it again. Besides, my pay, it's... I'm barely getting by as it is with those Kojkos edging on the delivery business, sir. Please..."

Embarrassing. You should know what a misconduct fine is by now. Make it up by being especially unkind to him in future dealings.

"What did you do, Gary?"

"Nothing! Nothing... just answering some questions. Helping out the law..."

Here we go. Start pumping that sweet info.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, GARY?!"

"NOTHING! Nothing... just answering some questions. Helping out the law..."

"I am..." (Rip out a fine slip.) "For 20 reál."

"Okay, I deserve that -- and I won't do it again." He accepts the slip of copy paper with a bow. "You have my word."

"I don't know what got into me. Stuffing my garbage in another man's property, it's... I've been having trouble at work lately. The Kojkos are price dumping us out of competition."

"I am." (Rip out a fine slip.) "For 250 reál -- the maximum."

"Oh god, 250? How am I gonna pay that?" He looks at the slip of yellow copy paper, then gets a hold of himself. "Okay. I'll work harder. I'll pay it off, I promise."

This is a considerable expense to him. One month's wage, most likely.

It's, in a way, admirable how quickly he composes himself after such a blow. This man digs authority. Even when it's bullying him.

"And I'll never do it again. I don't know what got into me, really... work has been stressful lately. Damn Kojkos price dumping us out of competition."

"I am..." (Rip out a fine slip.) "For 100 reál."

"I would -- but I don't know how. How do I fine someone, Kim?"

"Using a standard form, officer." The lieutenant pulls out a sheet of carbon copy paper, scribbles something on it, then tears out the bottom page and hands it to Gary.

"It's 50 reál," he explains. "You're getting off easy. In return, we expect information. You have questions to answer, sir."

"Nah, Gary. I just want information."

"Whooh," he's visibly relieved. "Thank you, you won't regret this. I won't use another man's property to dump my garbage ever again."

"I don't know what got into me, really... work has been stressful lately. Damn Kojkos price dumping us out of competition."

"Alright, I believe you. You look like the kind of man who knows it's a crime to lie to an officer."

"Just admit it, man. You put the mug in the trash container behind the Whirling."

"Maybe... okay, yes. I did. I know I shouldn't have, and I am very sorry, officer." He pauses. "You're not going to fine me, are you?"

"You look like the kind of guy who might have a collection of mugs like this. Home -- in his colonial mug collection."

"How do you mean? Forgive me, officer, but we've only just met."

He is trying to avoid lying to you outright in case you really have been to his apartment.

He's trying not to look afraid, because that would be incriminating. Yet he is.

"It seemed as if you were calling to it longingly when you cried 'Yellow Man'!"

"Oh, no, that's not... why would I be calling to a broken mug?"

"You said 'Yellow Man'. That's not something many people go around saying."

"Really? I hear it all the time. All in jest, of course. No offence meant to anyone."

"So, Gary, you live nearby. In an apartment in Martinaise?" (Point in its direction.)

"Sure do, officer."

His eyes narrow slightly. He's wondering where this is going.

"I think I broke into your apartment. I'm very sorry."

"What?!" He turns pale.

"I had to. For Mr. Claire. I'm a bad cop, I know, but I felt like I had to do it..."

"So you work for Evrart Claire!" He realizes what's going on and changes his tone: "Officer, please tell him we're good. No, no, tell him I'll make it up to him..."

"What have I done? He'll send the muscle after me..." The man looks around, whispering, he makes sure no one hears you talk.

As he lowers his tone he hunches his back.

"Honestly, I feel bad about it. The article you wanted to write -- don't let this dissuade you from writing it."

"The article about the businesses? How does he know..." He shakes his head. "No way in hell I'm writing it now. Tell him I'm silent as the grave."

"I won't cause any more trouble," he whispers. "I'll be Mr. Cooperation. The Union doesn't have to worry about me -- they're honest Vacholieres. Honest men."

This scared him proper. He's positively melting from fear. Has to prop himself up with a lot of anger to keep it together.

"The weather vane has turned," the lieutenant remarks with a smirk. "He cannot be un-turned."

He clearly liked his squirming. He may even have changed his mind about the whole door-opening operation.

This scared him proper. He's positively melting from fear. Has to prop himself up with a lot of anger to keep it together.