Yaaaaaaawn.

Ain’t very gud cov’a.

See? She gets me.

“OI.

Quitcha fuckin’ hackin’ or covers yer mouf!”

“Wheechoneya left yer ked oot’ere?

Hackin’ up a fuckin’ loung.”

a cartoon character in a casino with a sign that says sloto in the background ALT: a cartoon character in a casino with a sign that says sloto in the background

The only casino I like

“Me either, but ah don’t hae horns comin’ out a’ mah forehead, so… Ye got an answer tae mah question? Ah need it fur research.” He sighs, pouring himself another drink before continuing the game of solitaire he had been playing.

“Y’ here fur meh or t’ drinks?”

+ his new friend. “Tieflin’? Mah buddy told me ye guys shed yer horns if ye feel threatened. Ye know, like a lizard an' it’s tail. Is 'at true?”

A small glance down confirmed his feet weren’t moving. With that confirmation, he answered. “I’m nae exactly ‘going’, mukker. Ye haur fur a bevvy to? They’re nae open… but th' whiskey is.” He shook the bottle slightly, extending it to the stranger. The moonlight from outside cast a silhouette of +

+ closed.

+ plenty of places. Besides, this place was closed.

If they were breaking in when it was open, that wouldn’t make much sense. There were people in here when this place was open. Great way to get caught.

That would definitely be more suspicious than breaking in while the illegal gambling den was +

@wastedcrusade.bsky.social The bar was quiet, primarily because it was closed. Being closed tended to have that effect on a place. Jacks didn’t mind. That just meant the booze was free until it got open again.

Locked inside, he paid no mind to the sound of someone breaking in. He broke into +

“It’s pretty stoatin, if ye ask me. Dae ye hink moles ever hink abit fowk? Loch, ‘Why is thes bastard diggin'? That’s our job.’”

Jacks, as he rambled, offered a hand expectantly, glancing at the shovel. It only made sense that he should take a turn.

He’s sitting down next to the hole Plago is digging, picking up a rock and turning it over in his hands. Then, pocketing it, “Ye think moles think we’re fuckin’ shite at diggin’?”

“Yer da one using’ it. Figured you’d dae yer research.

Think he was jist diggin' wi' his hands an' 'en realized ‘oh, shite, there’s enuff rubbish ah coods make a shovel?’”

“Wha invented th' fierst shovel?”

Whit? Ye dinnae speak common? That’s a'richt, ah kin huv a go tae simplify it fur ye. Na fashes at a', friend.

I said ah think tis a moggie. Meow meow. Bit he's bin cursed.

Weel, if ah didnae ken ony better, a'd say that's a moggie, bit yin that haes bin zapped by a witch tae eternally be in that moment whin ye jus wake up efter a nap, whaur yer feelin' worse than ye did whin th' nap stairted. Ye ken?

A'm gonnae avoid ye at th' blackjack tables.

Heard o' gaun broke. Ne'er heard o' gettin sae rich ye explode.

How dae ye murdurr a coin?

… coin species?

“Moonshae Isles, born 'n' raised. Got oot o' thare though as soon as ah cuid afford passage! So, likelie... 13?” He slowed his pace, letting his new friend catch up. Jacks wasn’t in any hurry for the roast. It wasn’t going nowhere.

“Why wid ah be digging a hole? Dun git nothin' doon thare.”

“Och, definitely. Follow me, ah kn’ a guid wee place. Nothin’ fancy but has fantastic roasts!”

He motions with a hand and begins walking, not bothering to wait and see if Lago was coming with.

“Loads o' fowk ca' me Jacks sae ah guess ye kin tae. An' a dinnae ken yit! Figured it wid be guid tae hae, ye know, in case something comes up that a'm needin' a silver fur!”

The accent, whatever accent it is, is thick, but he matches the stranger’s grin, giving a nod of his head. “So I asked!”

“Ye'r th' absolute best!” He catches the silver and flips it, like it was a coin toss. Seeming pleased by the results, he pockets it.

“So, git a name?”

Uh, kin someone len me a quick silver?

“Ye missed a spaht.”

‘Less they've bin smoking herbs.