Conversation · Pissf****t

"You punched a twelve-year-old boy in the face. I think I'm still pretty much in the clear here," the lieutenant replies. There's is no discernible change in his tone.

"I've come to regret my violent ways, Kim...."

"Pick a better time, officer." The lieutenant's voice rings cold and certain. "After we've dealt with these wannabe cop-killers."

He did not appreciate you undermining his authority in front of the two punks.

The young men stare at the two of you in confusion.

"Well..."

"Don't well me. This might be fine by you but it certainly isn't fine by me. We've got to try to nip this kind of behaviour in the bud."

"When you put it that way..." (Turn to the two young men and tap a finger against your head.) "Dog food!"

The lieutenant sighs. "I... appreciate the effort."

"Yeah, but... fuck the police."

"No. You don't get to say that." His voice is sharp as a blade. "Police officers put their lives on the line to protect the people of Revachol, while punks like these joke about joining a cop-killer clan."

"If you got something else to ask from them, do it now and let's move on. I don't want to waste any more time here."

"You tried to punch a twelve year old and almost knocked yourself out," the lieutenant replies with no discernible change in his tone. "I think I'm still pretty much in the clear here."

"And do what? Walk away, knowing that there are two delusional hoodlums interested in joining a criminal group whose main areas of expertise are jacking cars and killing police officers?"

"A threat? Good. I like those."

"But I don't," the lieutenant interjects quickly. "In fact I dislike them so much I'm willing to drag you boys back to the station just to calm myself down."

"Hey uh... there's no need for that." He raises his open palms. "We're just talking here. Joking too. Stay light, man."

"Yeah, didn't you cops, like, have some questions about SKULLs or some shit?"

"Don't fuck with me, boys. I'm one of the bad cops."

"Whoa... c'mon, man..." He raises his open palms. "We're just talking here. Just words, nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah, no need to throw your authority in our faces."

That's right! Way to put them in the little boys corner!

"You wanna talk? Let's talk, boys." His eyes meet yours. "Ask them."

He liked how you decisively shut down a situation that could have turned into a farce.

"I'm going to look you boys up in the police registry, come to both of your houses at night and MURDER YOU IN YOUR GODDAMN FUCKING SLEEP!!!"

As your bellow echoes through the street, the boys quiver ever so slightly and gaze down at their shoes, pretending to be deaf.

"Right." Lieutenant Kitsuragi adjusts his spectacles. "You heard the detective. He's gonna ask you some questions now."

Don't ever do that again. But good call, detective.

"I see."

"Why aren't there more SKULLS in Martinaise?"

"The Union does their share of policing in Martinaise, at least where gangs are concerned," the lieutenant replies instead. "That's why there isn't much organized crime around here."

Apart from the Union themselves of course.

"Don't you worry about that. We're gonna make up for the deficit."

"Yeah we are!" The young men exchange approving nods.

"Who's van Eyck?"

"Old man, it doesn't matter. You'll be long gone before his greatness is recognized."

A young woman kneels on wooden planks, still looking for something lost ages ago. She's nodding her head along to the signal coming in through her headphones.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm pretty old."

"Yep." He nods enthusiastically. "Old as fuck."

"Yeah, man. It's like... at death's door. No wonder you know nothing about the future. You won't be there."

Judging by that, van Eyck is some sort of musician. Or... killer?

"So, you're saying I'm an old man?!"

"No, no, no," he quickly assures you and takes a step back. "Just a bit older than us, ain't that right, Piss?"

"Yeah," the blond man replies with a nod. "That's what I mean. You're young as fuck, don't worry."

"Hey, I'm only 42!"

"Holy shit, that's even older than I thought!" He bursts out laughing.

"You're fucking ancient, man."

A young woman kneels on a sheet of ice as if looking for something lost ages ago. She bends until her right ear touches the frozen water. She listens to it crack, slowly.

"I see you kids are into modern dance music?"

"Oh, man, yeah!" he exclaims, then stops himself, processing the rest of your question. "We're not fucking kids, man!"

"Yeah, we're not fucking kids!" He glances at your partner and quickly adds: "And we're also not fucking confrontational. The mood is chill here."

Still a bit rattled by the earlier shock?

"Be wary of the abyss," his blond friend adds ominously and points to his temple.

"Why?"

"Probably because of how non-verbal their mode of operation is going to be," the lieutenant answers for the two rebels. "It's a threat."

"It's a threat," the lieutenant answers for the two rebels. "An impotent threat of violence."

"Yeah. Cindy the SKULL!" He lights up. "A true artist of the future, just like Arno van Eyck or Rietveldt."

"Do you happen to know what happened to the victim's armour?"

"Nope," his mouth makes a popping sound. "But Cindy does."

"Don't tell him that," the other one cuts in, too late. "SKULLS don't tattle, man. Cindy wouldn't."