Jed (gunsnexplosions) wrote in the_old_firm, @ 2009-09-24 15:08:00 |
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Current mood: | cheerful |
Current music: | When The Guns Come Out ~ WC, E-40 & Christ Bearer of Northstar |
Sex, Guns, and Violence (Open RP/Arrival Post)
Here's the thing - as much as I might be a charmer (and I am), in my professional life? I'm not really a people person. Don't do the clock punching, ass kissing, yes sir shit anymore. Got all of that out of my system a long time ago. People hire me to do a job? I do it. So sorry if your cherry red porsche was in my fucking way even though I told you to fucking move it. Twice. With various suggestions on where you could put it.
And yeah, okay, I have a bit of a temper problem. In that I'll shoot a guy I was just supposed to arrange a meeting with if he pisses me off. Come on, one less idiot in the world is a good thing! It's so not my fault he felt the need to shoot off his mouth about my mother. Who he so has never met, much less fucked, the retard.
Anyway, occasionally, I find myself hard pressed for work. Amazing, I know. I'll go a while, high on the hog, a string of referrals keeping my days busy and my nights well funded. Then one little incident - like exploding a yacht with a bunch of frat boys on it because they scratched my new hand-held grenade launcher with their stupid mass produced hollow point bullets during a fire fight - and I'm left scrounging for jobs.
Luckily, I had contacts. Not many that didn't secretly want me dead, sure, but if I flashed some cash, I generally got what I wanted. And if I dropped to my knees, which for one of them I was always more than happy to do (seriously, salt and pepper hair, little bit of a gut, and a dick that could cut glass; I was a happy, happy boy), I got a little bit more than that. Like a business card. And a name.
Hey, I might have a rep as being unpredictable and moody (harsh words), but I also was someone who got the job done. No matter what. I'd never, never missed a mark. One of the goddamn best. So when I sauntered into The Old Firm, leather jacket unzipped, sunglasses being pushed up so I could look around in faint amusement, I wasn't exactly begging. Just wanted to check out this place that was so hush-hush it took one of my world famous blow jobs, cash, and my considerable street cred to even get wind of.
"Knock, knock," I flashed a grin, eyebrow arched. "Need to talk to the boss. Anybody home?"