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“What the hell do you know about dogs?” I asked, waving around his place that had only ever been home to him.
“Special interest,” he said. “There’s no rawhide in there, is there?” he asked, looking at the bags.
“No. Why?”
“Because they cause blockages.”
“Hey, kid, focus,” I said, snapping at him. “Focus. Czech crime syndicate.”
“Just trying to look out for your little girl,” he said, holding up his hands. “Oh, I gotta get that,” he went on as the little toaster oven on his counter announced his next meal.
“Fine,” I sighed, dropping down on his abandoned chair.
“Made the funky bunch tonight.”
I was going to regret asking, but, “What is the funky bunch?”
“Ham and cheese, bacon cheeseburger, and buffalo chicken.”
“I didn’t realize those came in anything other than cheese or pepperoni,” I admitted.
“What? You’ve got to broaden your pizza roll horizons, Saylor,” he told me, picking up each roll with his bare fingers to drop them into a bowl, stopping between each to try to ‘flick’ the heat off his fingertips.
“You know, there’s a whole world of frozen foods out there. Mozzarella sticks, onion rings, breakfast sandwiches…”
“Hey, there are breakfast pizza rolls,” he claimed. “Bacon and cheese,” he added.
“When is the last time you ate anything green?” I asked, getting out of his chair so he could drop back down.
“Do green peppers and chives count?” he asked.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“If those green peppers and chives are in a pizza roll or not,” I said as he stuffed a roll into his mouth, then puffed out the heat like a fish. “Can you get me a drink?” he asked around the roll, pointing toward his fridge.
Walking over, I pulled the fridge open to find the entire damn thing stuffed with various energy drinks and flavors.
I grabbed one at random and brought it over to him. “These things literally thicken your blood, you know,” I told him. “People drop dead from clots because of them all the time.”
“And your gummy candy addiction is healthy?” he shot back.
Hey, that was fair.
But also…
“How the fuck do you know that?”
To that, I got a little smirk out of him.
“I’m good at my job.”
“Who paid you to hack me?”
“No one! No one!” he said, holding up his hands, a pizza roll between a few of his fingers. “Honest. Just like looking into who I’m working for. You know, when my games are updating and stuff.”
“Fine,” I said, sighing. “Now, do you want to get paid or not?” I asked, reaching for some more cash. Cash that I’d needed to stop home to get since I’d left the rest with the drug dealers next to my warehouse.
