Nothing jumps out to you. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He looks almost as old as you.

"There needs to be a club for anodic music in there. Everyone hates each other. Everyone hates it, it's all just drugs and we're slaves and I can't... We are running out of time."

"We need a win." He looks at you with wide eyes. "I promise you this will be a win. We won't cook speed in there, we'll do it clean, we'll do it true, we'll do it sober and real and beautiful. This will be a victory for the light."

This will be nothing.

You can hear the ice cracking underneath you. Outside, the last century waterside development is crumbling in the wind, a grapeshot row of falling houses on the pier. And so is Rue Saint-Gérôme and Main Street. The Old Cinema is sinking underneath Villalobos...

Noid surveys the situation with his face pale and blank. His eyebrow is twitching.

(Holster the gun.) "There we go. A few threats will get things moving quickly. Time to talk."

"Okay, man, okay..." He's shaking. "Don't do anything rash! We didn't mean to fuck you over."

(Lower the gun.) "All right. Speak."

(Admire the gun in your hand.) "Tell me, why should I do that?"

You grab hold of the grip and pull hard, but it won't budge. The gun is caught on the seam inside your jacket.

"God dammit, can't get..." (Keep tugging.) "...fucking gun... out!"

You're only making things worse. The jacket is going to rip if you continue.

"Whoa-whoa, hold on! There's no need for this!" A bead of sweat runs down the side of Andre's head.

"Law-man, be real careful and sensible about what you're about to do." Noid is slowly shifting his hand toward a hammer.

(Show both hands to the guys.) "Alright, I'm not going to do anything harsh... yet."

"It's all cool... we don't need to escalate things. Let's all calm down."

If they try something, just knock their teeth out!

There's always your backup outside... stay firm. You've got the upper hand.

"My partner is still outside and he's a no-nonsense guy."

"Got it! There's no need to get anyone else involved. "He wipes the sweat off his head. "Okay, man, listen..."

"I'm plenty calm. I think it's about time you told me everything."

"This is so fucked up..."

"It's okay, Egg. It's all okay..." He's still shaking from the tension.

"Remember, I can still punch you in the face."

"I get it! Okay, man..." He's still shaking a bit...

The lieutenant stands behind a white table, cleaning his gun. It would truly come in handy in a tense situation like this one.

"Better keep those hands where they are, Noid."

"Noid!" Andre hisses. "No need to escalate things. It's okay, let's all calm down."

(Let go of gun.) "Man, how did I mess this up so bad."

"You made your point, alright? We don't need to escalate things... let's just calm down."

(Let go of gun.) "You better start talking right now."

Pull harder.

Nope. It's stuck in there good.

"Come on, don't do this to me, baby, it's my time to be cool..."

Sorry, boiadeiro, the moment has passed. You just won't look cool anymore.

"Disco happened."

"I've been trying to say we need the next step in dance music to happen fast..."

He looks at his friend: "Shut it."

"What? I have... I've said that!"

"I don't know."

He doesn't know what to say.

"I did. I happened to myself."

"It smelled so impossibly sweet..."

"I was good enough in this job to be awarded the rank of lieutenant-yefreitor. I could have been captain. Imagine that?"

"I was even entrusted with a firearm, believe it or not." (Tap on your holster.) "A real firelance..."

Silence. He watches your hand anxiously.

"I got bad news for you, Andre. Things don't add up."

"What things?"

He senses something is wrong.

This is your chance -- to show up for art.