Page 50 of Fast and Dirty

“I’m sorry, what?” Hunt dips his chin at them as his eyebrows rush to his hairline.

“Her granddaughter and your girlfriend showed up and ruined the fun.” Ned continues as if he didn’t just tell Hunt his grandmothers shenanigans.

“And don’t forget the nice-dressed Will Smith - lookin fella,” Scottie tacks on.

“We need someplace to sow our oats. Deal us in.” Ned plops down in one of the chairs and Scottie follows suit. “Beer me!”

I give a silent chuckle and shake my head as I flip open the cooler lid.

“There better be some hardcore razzing and ribbing,” Scottie chides as I hand both him and Ned a beer.

“Actually, we like to argue over who has the dirtiest job in town.” Hunt folds his arms as Jace pushes through the same door the Blues Brothers just walked through.

Both men erupt in jolly laughter.

“Oh buckle up, you little shitheads,” Ned chortles. “Our time to shine.”

“Ohhh…remember Edison?”Scottie pipes up after we’re a good few hands into our night. “He ran that septic business!”

“Oh yeah, that tragic day he drove over a curb and his truck load of porta-potties went flying all over highway 3.”

“To be clear, this is the Dirty Jobs Club, not the downright disgusting.” Hunt shudders, looking like a repulsed teenage girl.

“Pussy,” Scottie spouts while cracking another beer.

“I get plenty, thanks for asking,” Hunt returns, still studying hiscards.

“Now we’re talkin’,” Ned pipes up over the edges of his own hand. “Who else has been landing some hot snatch?”

“West,” Hunt supplies again in answer.

“Shut your goddamn mouth or I’ll find a new place to store my ratchet wrench,” I warn him as he stuffs a bit of pizza in his mouth and holds his hands out.

“Are you talking about that sweet little thing holing up at Agnes’s house?” Ned cocks his head.

“The one who switched up my Old Fashioned with Agnes’s Blast Ball at the bar?” Scottie asks, his eyes taking on a traumatized trance.

I chuckle warmly at my girl’s antics the two hours she worked at the Crafty Coyote.

“Someone’s in love,” Hunt jeers like he’s in fifth grade, and flashing his toothpaste-commercial grin.

“Don’t go throwing that word around,” Jace grumbles.

“It’s not a bomb.”

“Says the guy who hasn’t been in a serious relationship since…” Jace looks up finally, giving Hunt an expectant eyebrow.

“Wow, listen to you,” Jace muses, laying his cards face down on the felt, our round temporarily forgotten. “Maybe you should take Old Man River’s place in the mayors office.”

“Pffft…” I scoff. “No one would vote for me. I’m an ex con.”

“With a head for business,” Jace taps at his temple.

“Plus I’m an outsider,” I remind them. “I’ve only lived here two years.”

“Long enough for you to know how this place ticks,” Hunt holds his hands out. “But not long enough to be biased towards anyone’s favor.”

I raise my voice slightly as I start to get irritated. “And an ex con,” I say yet again and wave up and down myself for emphasis. I swear, these fucking assholes get an idea for a good joke and then latch on and run with it for as long as they can

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