The door to the Astro Van slides open and a stale odor wafts out. Laid out on the faded, stained seats is a bizarre assortment of stuff, most would call it trash, but the crew knows these are Ham-Bone prized possessions. Arbitrary relics from the Old World that have some hold over him. Ham-Bone gently lifts and moves some old VHS tapes, a peeling trophy, an extra large Tim Horton’s cup, and a stack of dog-eared hockey cards to make room for the others.
Careful man! That’s a Monopoly game there. Don’t crush the box. I’m saving it for Earl for when he gets older.
The door closes and the bench seats force everyone to face awkwardly in the same direction, like they are all going on a road trip.
The WM3…those guys will undercut us for sure. I wouldn’t trust them to wipe my ass. That’s what we tell PB. WM3 are too, too unreliable, and take too many risks. They'll botch the job. For this contract he needs a mature crew, one that is experienced and careful. he needs us.
I hope you don’t mind me continuing the story here. It seems most want privacy. If want to meet somewhere else or want to start a new thread, I can delete this one.
Edit: I imagine this as a scam during negotiations.
Last edited September 17, 2016 3:27 pm