Conversation · Pissf****t

"The palm tree livery should be, like, pastel green. Fucking tropic shit..." He gazes dreamily at Lieutenant Kitsuragi's motor carriage.

"I can see it, bright as day. Oh, if we were SKULLS right now..."

"Who are you?"

"I can tell you who we're not, cop. We're not snitches, f****ts, or SKULLS."

"Which is not to say that the SKULLS are bitches and f****ts. On the contrary..."

"The part of this presentation you wanna take home with you, cop-man, is: We're not part of the SKULLS. Yet."

Okay then -- let's indulge in some intellectual exchange. These young men seem eager to share their beliefs.

These skull people are more than an authority. They're deities.

"We don't have time for this. Let's go." [Leave.]

"That's one brutal motor carriage," says the young man with 'PISSF****T' written on his back.

"If I were a real SKULL now, I'd jack it, paint it in palm tree livery, then bottom-light it neon-style!" His companion wears a simple yet elegant slogan: 'FUCK THE WORLD'.

"A snazzy shit-ripped SKULL-mobile like this would make a fine trophy. We could, like, hang fucking shrunken heads from the side mirrors! Cops' heads... Scary tribal shit."

"Yeah, tribal shit..." he agrees. "A cop-carriage like this would have proper SKULL value..."

"Ahem." He steps in. "While I appreciate the interest you take in my brutal motor carriage, I have to stop you right there. The RCM takes threats directed at its property seriously."

"I, uhm, it's just theoretical work, copper. No basis in reality." He turns to his companion: "Man, if we were certified SKULLS right now..."

SKULLS -- now there's a strong organizational title.

Was it a good idea on the lieutenant's part to get into this? Don't even answer that, just leave. You can always come back later -- on your own terms.

...