James Ford (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sorrydontsuitme) wrote2009-09-08 11:07 pm
sorrydontsuitme) wrote2009-09-08 11:07 pm
March 27, 2074
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe, catch a soldier by the toe.
"Now what the hell am I gonna do with you." The two toy soldiers stand at attention on his bureau. He knows there's a treasure inside, just like the one inside the Virgin Mary statues from that Beechcraft. And like the heroin inside the statues, the red-eye inside the toy soldiers is every bit as dangerous, every bit as addictive, and every bit as valuable. The difference is he's in a place where he could actually make money off what's in his little pals over there. On the island, there was no damn currency. The drugs were worthless.
Almost.
Here, though... well, he ain't never dabbled in selling drugs before, but he knows better than to do it in the Dragons' back yard. If he's gonna make a quick however many Woolongs off these things, he won't do it here. No, he'll wait till he goes to Mars with Freckles, then see what he can do with 'em there. Or maybe some other planet or moon. Someplace far, far away: he kind of likes what they have goin' here.
The question is this: how does he do it without Freckles catchin' on? She's sharp. It could just be he's got to take a trip without her one of these days, after he finds out what he can about the street value of this stuff. If he remembers right -- he hasn't opened 'em yet -- there's at least one vial in each of these. But each one of these little things is worth a bundle. He ain't gonna retire on the value of what he's got here or nothing, but it'll go a long way toward restoring what he spent on his passport.
But not today. No, today he wraps each of those toy soldiers in a sock, wraps each sock-clad soldier in a pair of skivvies, and sticks 'em in the back of his underwear drawer. Then he sets his ass down on the chair, stretches out his legs, and flicks on the television.
It's time for the soaps.
"Now what the hell am I gonna do with you." The two toy soldiers stand at attention on his bureau. He knows there's a treasure inside, just like the one inside the Virgin Mary statues from that Beechcraft. And like the heroin inside the statues, the red-eye inside the toy soldiers is every bit as dangerous, every bit as addictive, and every bit as valuable. The difference is he's in a place where he could actually make money off what's in his little pals over there. On the island, there was no damn currency. The drugs were worthless.
Almost.
Here, though... well, he ain't never dabbled in selling drugs before, but he knows better than to do it in the Dragons' back yard. If he's gonna make a quick however many Woolongs off these things, he won't do it here. No, he'll wait till he goes to Mars with Freckles, then see what he can do with 'em there. Or maybe some other planet or moon. Someplace far, far away: he kind of likes what they have goin' here.
The question is this: how does he do it without Freckles catchin' on? She's sharp. It could just be he's got to take a trip without her one of these days, after he finds out what he can about the street value of this stuff. If he remembers right -- he hasn't opened 'em yet -- there's at least one vial in each of these. But each one of these little things is worth a bundle. He ain't gonna retire on the value of what he's got here or nothing, but it'll go a long way toward restoring what he spent on his passport.
But not today. No, today he wraps each of those toy soldiers in a sock, wraps each sock-clad soldier in a pair of skivvies, and sticks 'em in the back of his underwear drawer. Then he sets his ass down on the chair, stretches out his legs, and flicks on the television.
It's time for the soaps.