#aaaaaaash!!! i am indeed having quite a chill weekend - i hope you are as well!!!

[queenofbaws]

queenieee (said in the same way josh says sammy) hope ur doin well this fine saturday!! and i would Love to have our favourite fuck no the movie agent manager man conrad approaching any of the quarry survivors about how he can make em a lot of money if theyre willing to tell their story :]

at-least-but-not-exactly-six sentence sat(or)sunday!!! ---

He’d been friends with Josh long enough to know better than to go around asking questions. Even if he did deign to actually answer said questions (which hardly ever happened), nine times out of ten you walked away from the whole deal wishing you could unhear what you’d just heard. It was a talent, really - just not one that helped Conrad do his job.

So had he maybe walked into this a little...under-prepared? Sure, that argument could be made. Would he be walking away empty-handed? Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

Not for what he was getting paid.

Getting in hadn’t been a problem. He hadn’t really expected it to be, but in backwater towns like that, you could never be too sure. Sometimes the locals caught a whiff of your cologne and shut their doors before you could open your mouth. Maybe they saw the kind of car you drove. Maybe they just decided they didn’t like the look of your face. It’d happened before.

But lucky him, all it’d taken was one dimpled half-smile and his best ‘aw shucks’ tone, and the woman working the front desk had all but led him back by the hand.

The dimples weren’t helping much now, though...not now that the door was closed. For whatever reason, it didn’t seem Sheriff Hackett was the kind to swoon under his charm.

“Out,” he’d said, riiight as Conrad was getting to the good part of the spiel - the juicy part. It was obvious he’d meant for that to be the end of it; he dropped his eyes back to the paperwork he’d been filling out when he’d first walked in, pretending for all the world like he was alone in the office again...but Conrad wasn’t buying it. He was holding onto that pen just a little too tight, a little too much like he was weighing the pros and cons of stabbing it down onto one of his hands. “Not interested.”

“I gotcha, I gotcha...” He didn’t move to stand up, but did move, knowing full well it’d draw his eye. Conrad leaned back in his chair, hands lacing behind his head, and heaved a world-weary sigh into the afternoon air hanging heavy in the room. “Look, I get it. Seriously, I do - family stuff gets so messy. It’s always like, are people going to judge me because of what my family did? Is this going to reflect poorly on me, somehow? If people find out one of my siblings was going around eating human flesh, am I ever getting invited to another barbecue?”

Sheriff Hackett’s eyes were dark and perfectly fucking still as he stared him down from the other side of the desk.

Which just went to prove his point: Move enough and they will look at you! Whether they want to or not. Conrad couldn’t help but smile again. “I know you’ll never believe me on this one, but that last hypothetical was one hundred percent not about you. I’ve got this buddy you should meet sometime, though...well, ‘buddy’ is maybe a generous word...sort of more like...this absolute maniac who - ”

“You’re going to get out of my office on your own, or I will make you,” Hackett said slowly, firmly, using the same kind of cop-voice he’d been threatened with tens (if not hundreds) of times before during his tenure working alongside the Horror Harem themselves. The Blackwood cops, to be fair, had been slightly more bumbling than the Big Bad Wolf of North Kill over here was trying to make himself out to be. The tone had been the same, though. 

Conrad lifted his shoulders once, then leaned a bit farther back in his seat, taking in the photos and accolades the sheriff had hanging on his walls. None of the family, he noticed. Not a one. “Yeah, so...here’s the thing, man. I had part of my ear sliced off by a pirate, once. Not the yo-ho-ho kind either. Takes a little more than that to get me all hot and bothered, know what I mean?” His smile widened. “Just for future reference. Going forward. You get me. Now, where was I...oh, right. My clients have been talking to a lot of people about the whole...’Hackett’s Quarry fiasco.’ And I mean a lot. General consensus in the room was mayyybe we need to talk to someone who has a...slightly different perspective on the - ”

The pen in his hand didn’t break - not that he could see, anyway - but there was a loud sound, not unlike a bone being cracked as its plastic body snapped. “Get out. Of my fucking. Office.”

Oooh, he was so close to getting this guy, he could almost smell the ink of the check Washington would be printing him.