2014-02-11 - A New Deal in Town

It was outside one of the numerous small S-Marts outside of Brooklyn where the two were hanging out. One rather stodgy and short man with a neckbeard and a trenchcoat, the other long and thin with messy blonde hair.

"Come on you fat fucktard, let's get this done so I can hump yo' ma doggy style. Sweet fuckin' murderfish I'm bored."

Adam yawns, Lucky's leash in hand. The one-eyed dog seems to be more pulling him along than him taking the dog for a walk down the Brooklyn streets, but whatever. He looks like either a business rival or the perfect customer for the two idiots outside the S-Mart, you know. Assuming they were dealing. Which they totally may not be. Whatever. Purple spiked hair, fingerless gloves, black trenchcoat, an air that is one half cocky and one half anti-authority.

"Gimme a sec, Lucky," Adam yawns again. "Lemme grab a Monster or something." So yeah, he's walking towards the S-Mart door, because caffiene.

One of the kids coming out of the S-Mart glanced over at Jay, "Hey. Where's my money." The kid looked to be about twelve. Perhaps a bit younger than Molly.

Jay glanced over, "Hey, brute loops. We'll get your fuckin' money when the fuckin' retards 'in this mother.."

The kid calmly walked up towards Jay, "What I told you about not havin my money 'an talkin' bout my mamma?" The kid punched Jay in the balls. Hard. Jay went down hard.

Bob shrugged his shoulders in an emphatic 'them's the breaks' as the kid then took out Jay's wallet from his helium-sounding frame and walked off.

"Hey, what the hell, man?" Adam says, hand still on Lucky's leash-- he was about to loop it on one of the newpaper racks, so he bolt in and get an energy drink-- but...

"You don't just punch a guy and gank his wallet, bro." Adam cocks his head, cracking his neck.

The kid just glances over at Adam, "Bitch owed me money. He was late. Next time I take his kneecaps."

Jay was meanwhile wheezing in the methods long since having given up on dignity for having been nadshotted by a kid.

Adam drops the leash, cracking his knuckles. "Oh yeah?" he replies with a Look. "What are you, some little punk mafioso?" From the kid in the purple hair. "Kneecaps? You serious bro?"

The kid just glanced up at Adam, "Don't make me smack that bitch. And he wants to deal on my turf, he gotta pay."

Jay was rising pu, clutching his balls as Bob looked to be heaving silently with laughter.

"And don't ask what he was doin' wtih that monkey."

"Deal?" Adam's face twists in a smirk. "What you dealing, /kid/? Seriously, the big dogs let a pup like you have turf to try and lord over? Pssh. Besides, this is Brooklyn."

He rolls his shoulders a bit. "If this is anyone's turf, it's mine and my crews."

The kid's fist came up. And went to punch Adam in the balls. Adam might have the combat reflexes honed by Hawkeye and Black Widow, but..


 * CRUNCH*

His voice would be hitting a few octaves higher for the next few finutes.

"Next time I smack you harder bitch. Got that?" The kid would then walk away. After petting Lucky some.

"Errrk!" Adam drops, not having expecting that. "Motherfuc--" he wheezes. Dude. Clint was going to give him /such/ shit about this later. Damn, he needed a Monster. That stupid kid shouldn't have been able to get past his guard-- oh wait. The broken ribs and lack of sleep. That would do it.

Jay rose up, going over to help Adam up, "That little fuckwit controls half the east side. Bitchtard thinks he has it all, holdin' up freakfucks for milk money." Bob just stared over at him. "Hey, just as I got started the same way.."

Adam winces, accepting the help up, glowering in the direction the kid went. "How the hell-- that was our turf." He flinches. Was being the operative term. Conrad in SHIELD custody, half his crew dead, Ace at the mutie school now, him on parole. Goddamn. All right, so maybe it wasn't his turf anymore.

That actually kind of stung.

Yeah, now the lowest west east side was controlled by a bunch of grade schoolers. They were starting earlier and earlier.

Jay grumbles, "They strung up Mahoney by his fuckin' underpants off a tenth street flagpole. He'll only walk like a retarded sailor on shore leave if he ever gets his underwear out his fat ass."

They really were, considering Adam's old crew were at best high school age. "Seriously? By his underpants? Damn." He rubs the back of his neck. "Wait, Mahoney? How the fuck they get his fat ass up a flag pole in the first place?"

Jay shook his head in almost admiration, "It involved a hot tamale shoved up that fucker's butt so far it came out his fuckin' nose 'an kicked him his fucker's pucker."

Bob just shook his head again and heaved another bout of silent laughter.

"Shit." Adam rubs his forehead. The part of him that was still a street kid was /so/ toying with getting into a goddamn street war with these little fucks. But he was on parole. And a Young Avenger. Mostly, he was on parole, and juvie looks pretty bad.

Jay rubbed his head, "Yeah, next time the little motherfuckers'll be ruinin all our turf. I mean those fuckin' bitches are so goddamned retarded cute. They're already usin the fuckin Crime Dog Mascot.." The McGruff outfit weaponized for exchanges. This was serious.

Adam looks aggravated. "Fuck me, man. That's harsh. Shit, how are the Russians taking it?" Everyone knows that Ivan and his dirty Russian tracksuit mafia had a pretty firm hold on Brooklyn. "I don't think they give a shit about cute."

Jay looks rather pained, "The kids are biters and are about eye level. No one sees it coming." Until the nuts go. "They say that they ain't fuckin' anythin' but liquer bottles 'an back alley bums until everyone cna get cups."

Adam cringes. "Oof."

Jay can only nod, wide eyed, "Kids're gettin' meaner. Fuckwads 'an blowin' chunks. They said they made Earl get cafeteria food. Who the fuck hates a man enough ta make him eat mystery meat!?" Bob glances over at Jay, "Your mom."

Adam snickers, nodding at Bob. But for the moment, he just snaps his fingers to call Lucky over, grabbing his leash.

Jay just glares, "Don't make me hit your ass so hard it flies back in time 'an makes her abort ya fat cocksucker."

Bob rolls his eyes. "Take care."

"Well, nice chatting with you guys," Adam says, still glaring in the direction the kid had gone off in. "I gotta get back home and, you know, homework." He shrugs. "Invest in a cup, bro," he advises.

Jay grumbles, "But it makes it all flat 'an fat like your fuckin dad does whores." Bob smacked him upsides the head.