garrotejima:
Oho! In a show of his faith – an unwithering thing, apparently, like a damned roach amidst a nuclear storm – he’d only ask the Mad Dog ‘how far?’ when told to jump. Peculiarly, it was a refreshing thing. Lord, however, knew the guy was full of shit.
“Damn straight!” Majima pealed regardless. “I’m retirin’ the Grinch act – all ‘bout givin’ now! My lil’ heart’s grown three sizes just seein’ ya, and ya didn’t even have to sing a single tune!”
Laughter pitched suddenly, and it tittered not unlike the clattering of clay-shingles. Yet, snapping that butterfly knife open, those thin and stringy notes came crashing to a stop.
Kamurocho’s lights blinked hazily. How pretty. How rosy. In his eye, it seemed less so. “So, I’m givin’ ya the gift of ruminating! Cuz ain’t ya a – Shun Akiyama? If that ain’t a spittin’ image, then I got one eye!” A flash of the wallet showed, indeed, a license for one darling Mr. Shun – pathetically illustrated - with crayon, nonetheless! - as it was. Still, the Officer brandished his pair of fresh handcuffs. “That’s a year in the clink, but I might be willin’ to cut ya some slack.”
{ 💲 } ...Well, clearly Majima had been planning this for a hot minute. What, did he get some kid to draw that? Regardless, he was already in this deep, so he might as well keep playing along. “Huh, well would ya look at that. That is me.” He said, taking a drag of his cigarette before speaking once more. “Like looking in a mirror. Welp, looks like my hands are tied here.”
At the mention of “cutting him some slack”, Akiyama looked at the man with an interested expression. “Oh, yeah? What kind of slack we talking about here?” Based on the stories he had heard, he had a feeling what Majima was gunning for here, but it never hurt to ask.
