Why everything that's supposed to be bad make me feel so good?

[hostage]

WHO: Jesse Pinkman & Mike Parker
WHERE: the streets of De Chima
WHEN: early November
WHAT: Jesse recruits a new dealer.
WARNINGS: Drug stuff.

[Watching the competition is as much a pastime as it is a responsibility. When it comes down to it, drug dealers are Jesse's people. That's the world he fits into. The outcasts of the world, the dregs of society, are the same people he feels most comfortable around. It's unusual, however, for his pass through these neighborhoods to turn up a fellow imPort. Mike catches his eye from a distance, and then he spends some time simply watching him. Looks like he's dealing, for sure. That immediately warms Jesse up to him. When the coast is finally clear of any narc-looking figures, Jesse makes his way over.]

Yo. What's up?

[Always a greeting rather than jumping straight into a deal. Jesse's courteous.]

Comments

[lackey]

[Mike's always been of two minds about street dealing. On one hand, it's nerve-wracking as all hell keeping an eye on everyone in the general vicinity while trying to pick out undercover or competition trouble, but on the other hand, there's something fun about just hanging out on a sidewalk or street corner, chatting with passersby, doing a little business here and there. He's got a new excuse to throw at suspicious folks for his continued presence on any given street now, too: an animal control catch pole is leaning up against the wall behind him and, across the street, a dog bowl with half a burger in it has been set out in the open.

Thank you for the dog catcher job, government, it makes a fine cover for drug dealing. No, I'm not selling pot, officer, I'm waiting for a stray dog that's been causing trouble around here to take that bait over there. Noble, dog-catching intentions in action. Sometimes he even does end up catching a dog. Two birds with one stone(r).]

Hey, not much, not much. [The stranger gets a quick once-over when he approaches, but nothing about him puts Mike on edge. Doesn't have a cop look to him. Too scrawny, too pale. Mike gives him a small grin and returns the greeting as he would a friend he's known for some time.] How are ya, man? Nice day we're havin' here, huh?

[hostage]

[Oh, good. It's always nice to be greeted with warmth instead of suspicion. When it comes to guys Mike's size, Jesse's always a little bit nervous - because he is so scrawny, so easy to push around. Being underestimated is advantageous, but it's also really unpleasant.]

Yeah, man. Finally cooling down.

[Jesse looks past Mike to the pole against the wall, momentarily distracted. He squints and points at it.]

What's that thing?

[lackey]

Huh? [Mike twists around a bit quickly, immediately on alert, but - oh, right, just the pole there.]

Oh. Dog catchin' pole. [He motions to one end of it.] You uh... you loop that part there around the dog's neck and then you've got 'em and you don't get bit.

[With a nod and a shrug, he looks back to Jesse.]

Officially occupied as a dog catcher. So, that's what I'm doin'. If anyone asks.

[hostage]

Ahhhhhhhh... Smart.

[Props to the guy for that, seriously. It's a damn good cover.]

So you pretty much just get to stand here all day? You got it made, yo. I mean, I guess the pay's probably shit without a little something extra on the side, but that's how it goes with all these jobs, doing time for The Man.

[lackey]

[Mike practically beams at the compliment. Finally, someone recognizes he's smart.]

Yeah, yeah. People really like their dogs. It's crazy. Mention dogs and they're droppin' everything, what can they do to help you...

[So much nicer than that tired old alternative hands where I can see them... Alas, the downside.]

Pay is less than shit. You see that car... way over there, that one?

[He points down the street to a truck that looks like it should belong to a scrap yard.]

And it's a rental. If it weren't for a little something extra on the side, wouldn't even have that.

[hostage]

[He sees it. And, man, it makes him feel really sorry for the guy.]

Looks like you need a raise, brother. Even with a nice setup like this one, slinging ain't easy. On your feet all damn day, dealing with all kinds of bullshit from people...

[lackey]

[Mike nods along with that statement. He's not about to gripe about paying customers, but some people... Well, what can you do?

Besides shoot them and sink them in a lake.]

Sounds like you know a thing or two 'bout side businesses.

[hostage]

A thing or two, yeah. I used to hustle. Don't serve anymore but I got mad respect for the trade.

[lackey]

[There's another nod and a raised eyebrow to go with it.]

Cool, that's cool. I can't imagine doin' much else, but you find something that pays better, gotta jump on that. You... local or...?

[He taps his wrist lightly, over the tattoo.]

[hostage]

Haaa...

[He holds up his wrist. It reads REGISTERED.]

Government property, yo. But, uh, don't worry. I ain't here on superhero business, you get me?

[lackey]

I get you. Just so happens we've got matchin' tats.

[Mike turns over his wrist to prove that not only is he an imPort, he went the registered route, as well. No point in fighting the government, especially since they offer so much free shit for signing on the dotted line.]

Name's Mike. Now uh... all I've got is green here, but if you're lookin' for something else, I know some guys.

[hostage]

[More smart points for Mike. Registered is definitely the way to go.]

Jesse. And I'll take a dub.

[He's already pulling a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, though he does it discreetly, cupped into his palm.]

Is it dry lately or something? I was looking for some crank and molly, too.

[lackey]

Nice to meet you. [Mike slips his hand under his jacket before casually reaching for a handshake, taking the twenty dollar bill and leaving a small baggie of trainwreck in its place. The money is tucked away promptly.]

It's been a little dry lately, man. I mean... gotta keep in mind I'm just gettin' started, you know? Haven't been here all that long, still figurin' out how things are with some people havin' powers and everything. Nobody's got powers where I'm from. They got powers where you're from? ... Anyway. Don't know everybody I could know around here. But it's still been... You got a list, you're gonna be makin' a bunch of stops, askin' around more than anybody wants to be askin' around.

Guys I can give you should at least be able to hook you up with the likes of molly. I've been hearin' it's really tough on the shit side of things, though.