@otravi liked for a starter ( accepting )
The nice, shiny white roof of the Lamborghini crumples like paper as Hybrid lands on it, clawed feet raking the already-ruined paintwork as they take slow, deliberate steps across the hood. Scott and his symbiotes have been tracking the owner of the vehicle for almost a week now; it seems almost a shame to ruin such a nice car, but the Lambo isn’t the only white, expensive thing that the owner likes to play with.
The little slimeball’s name is Donnie Hutchinson, but to his friends he’s known as “Teflon Don”, owing mainly to the fact that despite being as crooked as a three-dollar bill, nothing ever seems to stick to him in a legal sense. Donnie’s got a big mouth; he likes to boast of his connections, and considers the purity of the coke he peddles a point of pride, positing that he never cuts it with any of the shit his competitors are known for- brick dust, icing sugar, floor cleaner, and the like.
Perhaps if he was as particular about the means by which his product was distributed, he might have escaped Hybrid’s wrath for a little longer. Unfortunately for Donnie, his business acumen includes employing children as young as eight to act as dealers.
{ You should’ve gone to work on a farm if you wanted to spread shit for a living, Donnie, } Hybrid growls, wagging a clawed finger chidingly under his nose as the tentacles sprouting from their shoulders haul the man three feet off the ground, suspending him inches in front of Scott’s face. { Although come to think of it, if you’re stupid enough to think enough to think you can get away with pushing smack in my neighborhood, maybe you’d be better off flipping burgers for a living. }
