Participants:
Scene Title | Intelligent Anatomy |
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Synopsis | An arranged meeting leads to the discussion of the intelligence of anatomy. |
Date | September 1, 2010 |
The sun's been down for an hour or so, and it's around two hours before curfew. Amadeus is sitting on the steps of a local Chinese store with the light shining through the glass door, waiting for the woman he's supposed to be meeting. He's wearing his black AC/DC shirt and a black MLB bat bag on his back, with the envelope in his hands. The brown car sits on the curb waiting for him, but he's mostly ignoring it.
At the precise time that Kelly is supposed to meet Amadeus, a leather coat clad woman walks around the corner down the block, her hands in the back pockets of her pants. Near her pistol, but no one needs to know that little tidbit. She approaches at an easy pace, taking in both car and Amadeus, studying both with the cautious eye of someone used to dealing with danger.
Amadeus raises an eyebrow when he looks up at the person he's supposed to meet, then grins. "You the chick for the package? I ain't know you were gonna be so fuckin' hot. I'd give a fuckin' finger for those lips around my—" Then the car horn suddenly honks as the man bumps into the wheel while reading his magazine. "Anyway, I got the package right here." He waves up the envelope.
Kelly pauses and her gaze slides over him, head to toe and back again, her expression one of boredom. "You'd have to give a hell of a lot more than a finger for my lips to be anywhere on that scrawny body of yours," she says before taking another step forward to reach for the envelope.
"I've got bulk where it counts, baby." Amadeus releases the envelope, still sealed, then watches to see if she's going to open it. "I'm a discreet delivery guy, y'know? So I don't open my packages. It's all you."
"There is nothing at all discreet about you, boy," Kelly says, opening the envelope and doing a quick count of the contents. "And if you're not more careful of your words, you'll find that you have nothing where it counts," she adds, the threat said almost absently.
"I'm discreet in my work, I ain't say nothin' about everything else. But I like an ice queen, always fun to get you all riled up." Amadeus grabs his crotch a bit protectively for a moment, then releases and stands from the stairs, stretching his full six feet. "But somethin' tells me you could snatch my nuts right off, so I ain't gonna get you pissed."
Glancing up, one dark brow arched, Kelly shakes her head. "I'm not riled, boy. If I was riled, you'd be on the ground crying and cupping your favorite piece of anatomy. The smartest part of your anatomy too, I'll wager." She jerks her head towards the car as she folds the envelope and stuffs it into a pocket of her jacket, zipping it closed. "Go on before I decide that you're annoying enough without me being riled."
"Whatever you say, hot lips." Amadeus starts heading for the car, grabbing the handle before he turns his head to say, "And hey, it ain't the smartest part, gotta use my brain to know how to use it. And I know all kinds of psychological shit, like Odie's t-rex." After that, he finally slips into the car and closes the door, waiting for the driver to start.
His argument has Kelly shaking her head and starting to walk back, opposite the way she came. "«Stupid boy is going to be dead within a year if he keeps this up,»" she mutters to herself in Hindi, ignoring the car and its occupants once she's just a few feet away. She has her money, that's what's important. For now.