“Wait, so you’ve bought an iPhone from Mickey Doyle for two million dollars?”
Meyer stared at him incredulously, disbelief written all over his features. AR cleared his throat and only shrugged in response. “It was necessary. He wouldn’t sell me the rights to the application, and that was the only way to achieve success.”
Charlie burst out laughing, unable to control it. “AR, you really are a schmuck sometimes!”
“Now, now, Charlie, play nice.” Meyer scolded, but he couldn’t help but smirk.
AR’s cheeks flushed. “Don’t you two have work to do?”
Charlie got up and grabbed Meyer by the arm, tugging him along. “Enjoy your game, AR. C’mon, Meyer, there’s a picture of a snake I wanna show you. Actually, it’s a snake eating another snake—”
Arnold was just about to press the widget for Flappy Bird when he accidentally twitched and pressed the photo icon instead. Perturbed, he scrolled past the many pictures of Mickey Doyle. Curiously, he pressed one—
Doyle was naked, his erect cock tied with a bow. Across the chest of the picture read: “hope you enjoy the game, mr rothstein !!!”
He stared at it for a long minute before exiting the app and placing the phone down. Arnold pushed it away from him. “… Charlie, come in here.”
The Italian poked his head in. “Yeah, AR?”
“Please remove this phone from my presence.”
“… but, Doc, you just bought it.”
“I don’t care. Take it away.”
Charlie strolled in and grabbed it. “Well, okay.” He eyed him but then shrugged it off and walked off.
Arnold Rothstein never played Flappy Bird again.