Who: OPEN THREAD Where: Hell's Kitchen What: weapons sampler giveaway down by the docks. Rating/Warning: ??? anything goes.
It was sometime after three o'clock in the morning when a black SUV parked next to a dock in Hell's Kitchen. The motor and the lights were quickly turned off, and four well dressed men in identical suits got out, one of them carrying what appeared to be a heavily weighted bag.
The walked through an open gate, unconcerned if they were being watched or not.
Five minutes later, a sedan pulled up and parked further down. Two men got out, wearing much more casual attire. Their coats were riding up in the back, a sure sign that handguns were tucked behind their backs. They headed in the same direction at a casual pace, like they were on their way for an overnight shift.
It wasn't long before the men met face to face behind one of the buildings, their eyes periodically skimming the surroundings for any signs of police or private security officers. Or something worse. Perhaps in the form of a crime fighting superhero.
"This' a bad area," one of the casual duo said, clearly uncomfortable with where this was going down. "The devil used to be all over the place out here."
"Don't worry," the tallest of the well-dressed men assured him. He didn't seem at all worried about where he was, almost as though he had paid any private security to look the other way. "There haven't been any sightings lately. We've got stuff that'll drop him. If you've got that down payment, we'll give you the sample as a test drive. If you're satisfied, then we can make further arrangements. Elsewhere, of course."
He held out a hand to shake on whatever deal they were making.
That hand shake wasn't reciprocated. The second of the casual duo actually scoffed and waved it off. "We don't need this stuff for him. That guy's just an urban legend to keep crime outta here. It's the big guys that you gotta worry about. Like that spider guy out in Queens. That guy webbed my cousin to the sidewalk."
"It doesn't matter if it's a devil or a spider." The tall man sounded amused, "Bring us video proof that you've dropped or wounded any enhanced super-freaks, and we'll pay you. And perhaps we'll cut you a percentage off any future purchases."
There was a moment of silence.
"For real?" The two men exchanged a look and a shrug. It appeared they might be up to the challenge. It would be a rep boost from drug running and the dog fighting racket.
"These are an much more deadly upgrade from what the NYPD have. We consider it a way to test new products, and incentive to keep our respective businesses lucrative. Without any further outside interruptions."
"Huh. All right, we're game. Let's see what you got."
After hands were shaken, the bag opened to reveal a couple of semi-automatic rifles and a large, unmarked black box of ammunition.