Conversation · Cuno

"Okay. The fuck do you want from Cuno?"

Nod.

"Necromancer pig," he says, eyes full of admiration. "That shit was dark... going in there like that... brutal shit. Tell me:"

"Cuno dies, you're gonna pick one out of his brain like that too? Cuno's gonna go out in a hail of bullets. Gonna look like a fucking porcupine."

Porta Rosa, a side alley of the Boogie Street spearhead. A young man in his early twenties approaches Patrol Officer Émile Mollins and asks for a cigarette. As Officer Mollins reaches in his coat pocket for the pack of 'Astra' he just purchased this morning...

The man shoots him point blank in his chest. Breathless, the patrol officer collapses in the gutter. His right hand is grabbing the armour on his chest. The bullet didn't pierce it, but he can't breathe. On the pavement, the patter of the perpetrator's feet growing distant.

"Bleed, pig!" someone opens a window and says, but Émile can't see who. His sight grows dim with pain...

"Don't be silly, you're a kid. Answer me some questions instead."

"You're such a bummer, pig."

"You know what's a good line of work for getting shot?"

"Pigs..." He nods. There's a silence. It carries.

"I'll be there for you, Cuno."

"Yeah..." There's a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Cuno saw you wield that can," he says with an approving nod. "Sweet graffito action, pig. Cuno likes that delinquent shit."

"Poppa's bad to the bone, Cuno. Rotten to the core."

"Cuno's pa is. You're just shit at life," he says without malice. "Now what's your case with Cuno?"

"Yeah? You like art, Cuno?"

"Fuck no! Art's shit." He takes a step back.

"Oh yeah? What about your little Locust City then?"

"It's not art, it's fucking brutal. Nothing pussy about it! The fuck out of here!"

"Even the pigs think it's garbage!"

"Look bitches, Cuno's gonna wrap it up for you." He pushes his chin out. "Talk business or fuck off. Enough 'bout this art shit."

"It's still piss-weak garbage!" you hear a subsonic squeak from behind the fence. "No one likes your fucking art, you should bang with your life. Murder was the case..."

"Easy, Cuno... I just had a couple of questions."

(Write in an imaginary notebook.) "Got it: *Art's... shit...."

"That's right, pig." He looks pleased. "Shit."

"Thank you, Cuno. I really appreciate it."

"You're still a dink," he says without malice. "Now what's your case with Cuno?"

"Shit, pig..." You see respect in his eyes. "You got torn up bad there. Bled like a... like a fucking pig."

"Cuno hopes you learned your lesson and Cuno doesn't have to send his guys after you again." He nods seriously. "Now, what do you want from Cuno?"

"Everyone says you started crying in the middle of a firefight and then bled like a pig." He shrugs. "I guess that was cool."

"Who's saying that?"

"People. They say you kind of died for a moment. That you let your shit out already, but then came back. So I guess that's what's cool now."

"Just don't think coz you got half your dick shot off -- and you're an invalid now -- Cuno's gonna treat you different."

"Cuno doesn't reward weakness," he says looking at your pathetic limp. "It's business as usual with Cuno. Cuno's cold like that."

Feels good for some reason.

"We're talking again? You're not pissed off at me?"

"That was before you took a bullet to the dick," the kid says. "Now it's back to business with Cuno. Cuno's adult like that."

"I guess that's true."

"Cool, cool, cool." He nods along. "That's very cool to Cuno."

The kid doesn't even look at you. You're dead to him.