Beggars Can't Be Choosers


tuck_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif

Scene Title Beggars Can't Be Choosers
Synopsis Magnes is looking for equipment, Tuck doesn't have the droids he's looking for.
Date August 20, 2009

Tucker's Pawn Shop

Every shelf, every flat surface in the entire shop is covered with things. VCRs, DVDs, small pieces of machinery, cheap jewellery - all the kind of stuff worth little money. It's the merchandise that's not worth protecting, even here. If someone wants to steal a VHS copy of 'The Little Mermaid,' then so be it. The primary purpose of the clutter of items is a front - to distract from the fact that the real purpose of the shop is to sell stolen, high-value goods.
The front part of the shop with its knick-nacks and assorted low-value items is separated from the high value items by a counter and a layer of bulletproof glass. There is a slot beneath the window for exchange of money or small goods. At the base of the counter is a chute for larger items. Surveillance cameras keep a vigilant watch over every square inch.
There is a small arsenal of weapons up on a pegboard above the counter. Not just guns but knives, tasers, pepper spray, handcuffs, nightsticks, brass knuckles - all sorts of things meant to cause pain. There's a rotating case at the counter that holds many expensive jewellery pieces, including a few Rolexes and a large assortment of engagement rings. There are expensive cell phones, iPods, laptops and other various small electronics, including listening devices and CB radios. Just about anything worth stealing is displayed behind the glass and up on the walls. Many items however, are by special request. You gotta know what you're looking for.

While Magnes was here in a card game a few months back, there are a few significant differences from that time as he enters the door during lunch. Other than being better built, he's wearing a silky black wig that goes down to his neck, some temporary black dye on his eyebrows, a long brown buttoned up trenchcoat, and a pair of black boots with matching gloves.

He's also added a five o' clock shadow to his face, and an eyepatch. He looks around for a while, touching things, noting the black market prices for certain things, then after his browsing ends, he knocks lightly on the glass. "I need some things." he says with a forced deep tone, always keeping his head low in case of cameras. "Flexible body armor, any kind that you'll let me take a look at. Four M1911s with a double-stack rail frame, and an SV IMM Open pistol extended compensator barrel." He pauses a bit when that comes from his mouth, holding his head. He can't remember why he even knows this is the kind of gun he needs. "And four TASER X26s. If you have any of this, how much will it cost me, both for you to keep quiet about me being here, and for the equipment."

Tuck sticks his head around the corner, cigarette pinched in his lips. He eyes Magnes, then moves out to the front. There's a long moment where he just watches the other through the glass, then tilts his chin down to look over the tops of his glasses. "Well hello young man. You're a little early for Halloween. I'm afraid I don't have any candy." The side of his lip curls upwards.

Then the list. He blinks. "Well I don't have those treats either. I can give you a pistol, a taser. But this isn't the WalMart gun department or Military Grade Equipment 'R' Us. You want things that specific, you're in the wrong place, chum."

"Alright, let's say there was a place that might have military grade equipment, and let's say this place was anywhere on the planet you could name, where would you say it is?" Magnes obviously has something in mind as he asks, still keeping up the act, trying to see if Tuck knows something. "And you are discreet, right? So you won't go blabbing that I was here?"

"Look, buddy. I don't know who you are. I don't care who you are. This is Staten Island. No one gives a fuck. If I ratted out all my customers, I woulda been dead a long time ago." Tuck exhales a mouthful of smoke and settles himself into his highback bar stool. He rubs the side of his face. "There was a guy. Don't know if he's still around. But what you want is an arms dealer, not a pawn shop."

"I don't fund terrorism." Magnes says for whatever reason, now figuring the shop is a dead end, he asks the next thing he intended to. "Alright, where can I get my hands on Refrain, y'know, the drug?"

"Terrorism?" A blink. "What the fuck? Look. Go into some of the bars around here. Be discrete. Say you're looking for military-grade equipment. There's no cops around here. And if you can pay, you'll find someone to sell. That's the only way you're going to get your hands on it." Tuck picks up a bottle of V8 and takes a swig from it. He makes a face at the mention of the drug. "I don't deal in narcotics, pal. Ask at the bars." There's something colder in those tones. He's a recovering drug addict. He tries very hard not to know where to get a hit.

"Alright, thanks for your time. Good luck." Magnes offers, though certainly has no intention of hanging out in dangerous bars without a weapon to look for one. He opens the door, looking back one last time. "And I hope things get better on the island soon." Then, he's gone, allowing the door to shut behind him.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License