2010-09-20: Bathroom Break




September 20, 2010


Malachai's (Boston Pub)


There's no such thing as easy money. Or is there?

Phone Calls. They are never really the best way to do business. Not when there's so many different things that can go wrong with phone calls. Not to mention all the crazy phone and wire taps that go along with using the phones and stuff like that. Which is why the address to this particular place was given.

Malachai's is located in Boston. Which is where a lot of the business that Parker Lewis handles comes out of. He knows this city and the city knows him, which kind of makes it his turf. Right now, he's sitting off at the corner of the bar, sipping on something or other, while kind of paying attention to the game that's on the television above the bar. As usual, he's waiting for someone. Even if he doesn't look like he is.

Time passes, slowly at first, but faster later on. Still no one shows up even as the time between the proposed meet and the present time lengthens. Soon the game on the T.V ends with the home team winning, the announcers jeer their usual hobnob towards the crazed crowd. Suddenly, the bartender, a nice chap to that usual joint swings by Parker, "It's none of my business, chum, but it looks like you need to use the bathroom." He says in a casual tone while wiping a glass down with a rag.

Parker finishes off his drink and is standing up nice and easy. He even takes a moment to adjust the tie on his suit, because he's always dressing to impress, before he heads off in a direction that leads to the bathroom. He doesn't go inside though. Bathrooms are where bad things happen because escape routes are less. Instead, he posts up in the hall, right next to the door, speaking quite loudly, "I didn't drink that much."

It takes a moment before the door to the Men's bathroom opens and a man in a suit exits. You are /sure/ you didn't see him enter the bathroom. He eyes Parker for a moment, "Not even man enough to enter the bathroom? It's not like there's a full firesquad in there." He coughs, "Are you the contact?"

"I'm here to talk business, not measure dicks." That would be Parker's only comment about not being man enough to enter the bathroom. "So let's hurry this along, because I've got about for women that I need to spend some quality time with tonight." Parker only uses his peripheral to look at the man that's come out of the bathroom.

The man rubs his chin, "There is no consistency between you agents." Is the man's reply to Parker's responses. "The fact of the matter is, I don't have business for you. I am, however, interested that you provide a pact that you won't do any business against my employer. I understand your—" The man pauses as another male walks by to enter the bathroom. After a few seconds he continues, "profession, but you won't be able to regret a mistake like that."

"I came all the way down here to get threatened? Man, you could've just sent this over e-mail." Parker shrugs and then proceeds to lean back against the wall, as if he's not worried about a thing. "Listen, I do what I do. Everybody has to make a living, right? So unless your employer wants to make this worth my while, which doesn't take much, I'm not gonna' make any promises I'm not sure I can't keep." Smile!

"Also 'you' agents tend to take every threat personally. If you want to be treated like a professional, act like one. Earn your respect. A fancy dossier will only get you so far." The man turns to lead against the opposite wall. "We'll make it worth your while, I just like to make sure all of our ducks are in a row." The mysterious bathroom dwelling man digs his hands into his pockets as the man who went into the bathroom just a minute ago steps out and goes back to the bar.

"That's all I need to hear. When your Bossman has a numerical offer in the millions, contact me and I'll pass over my account number for a funds transfer." Parker flashes a big ol' smile at this point, since he's very excited to be getting money for nothing. "I'll need a list of what you don't want to happen, though. The bigger the list, the more worth while I need to be made." Parker's tone remains casually confident through this whole deal making process.

"Try twenty thousand. In addition, if we see need for you in the future, we will contact you." The man says, "You will effectively be on our standby roster. There are other parts of the contract that can be discussed later if you are interested." His tone is rock solid, it doesn't sound negotiable.

Parker rolls his eyes. "Twenty Grand? Please. I can make that on accident." He's already putting his hands in his pocket and preparing to get himself off the wall and headed in a different direction than standing here listening to this craziness. "Forty. Or it's Open Season on you and your Daddy No Bucks." While it doesn't sound like a threat, he does sound like he's wanting more than twenty thousand. Negotiations!

The man produces a small slip of paper with a flick of his fingers. He hands the paper to Parker, "Finish reading this contract, if you agree to the terms, sign the paper and one of our agents will be dispatched to compensate and debrief you." With that, he pushes his hands back into his pockets and begins walking towards the exit. It wasn't a no or a yess.

Parker takes the paper and within the next moment, it has been folded and shoved into one of the pockets inside his jacket. Or at least that's what it looks like he does with it. Who knows when dealing with people like him? He grins, figuring that it's a yes or something, because who could say no to Parker Lewis. He feels a little bad about how it turned out and is offering a bit of a wave at the man that's leaving. "I love your shoes, man! Don't worry about a thing! Fluffy's gonna' be okay! I promise!" Cover Story.