Re: Pat & Lou: boxes
Cisco had not possessed mean. He was the type of dude that would make a good friend, man. He had all the right morals, intelligence, and he was a cool dude. But that could not keep a pack of wolves in line, and time had proven that. Patrick still felt bad for the dude, and he hoped deposed wolves did not get taken out back and shot. Either way, man, yes, it was wild out there. But Repose had become wilder in recent years, so this was not especially surprising. The place had always had most odd occurrences, most of them occurring as clockwork, but they now came in clumps, dude.
The bed was done, and the dude started upon the box after Lou led him in the right direction with that squeeze to his shoulder. He was a tall guy, which he had inherited from his mom and not from Webster. At 6'1, he was the perfect height for unpacking pans, but he ended up just holding the pans up one by one. The dude had no idea what they were called; Con had never allowed him near the kitchen, and Newt currently procured their food.
"I was a year old, dude, I barely knew me. She was here recently. She has been gone a few times in the past few years," he said of Con. "She goes where work sends her, dude. That is how it is in the military." This was not a lie. Con's boss was in California these days, and Patrick only hoped it was a better stop for her than Repose had been.
He was not surprised by the wolfish tip of head. "The cops here are dirty. They will give you no trouble. They keep Hookerville in business and get a cut from the drug business on the opposite side of the track. Grease their hands and you will be fine. They can be found at the bar near the precinct," Patrick said of the place that had employed him for a hot minute. Man, he did not miss that career choice. It had never been his, and he had since learned that pleasing people was most impossible (and it was best never to do it at one's own expense).
He finished off his beer, and he looked for another box requiring attention.