10-14-2013, 04:20 AM
Yuri shrugged as Mudak let him in the door and glared at him about being late. He shrugged. Fuck, it couldn't have been more than five minutes after eight. What a buzz kill that guy was. "Yeah, you got it," he replied.
As Mudak took him through the place, Yuri took a good look around. Peeling paint on the walls, floor felt like one foot wrong and you'd fall through -- yeah, this place looked just like he'd expected from the looks on the outside. A real place to score some good stuff. The guys at the table in the living room playing cards looked like some tough muscle, but if either of them gave him a hard time he'd have no problem making sure they knew which of them was the bitch of the group.
Mudak took Yuri into another room and turned on a blue light. Yuri noticed the chemistry set up right away. Lots of beakers and burners -- he'd already been told about the coke, but what were they making here? Crank, by the look of the cookery, but he didn't see any of the ingredients he would have expected. No ether or acid or other stuff like that. Just lots of boxes that said sugar on them.
Really? Mudak's miracle drug was made from sugar? Nah, that couldn't be right. What the fuck else did they do to it to make those pills?
He turned his attention back to Mudak. So the guy was going to offer him a job as a dealer or as muscle. Both would be easy as anything. But he wouldn't get a good hand on the good shit as muscle and from the looks of it Mudak was too tight with his supply for Yuri to be able to score some on the side that way -- fuck, he'd carried those pills himself to that last job.
Or -- "Trade secret, huh?"
He was offering Yuri a chance to learn how those pills were made? And then it struck him -- why had he never thought about making his own drugs? Such an obvious solution to so many problems that made so much more work for him. Working for money, stealing money, stealing stuff to sell for money, finding a dealer, haggling with a dealer, beating up a dealer...Fuck, he'd have so much extra time if he didn't have to do any of that and just make the shit himself. Then he'd have the money and the time to get his band together. And maybe get a nice pad too rather than live out of wherever he happened to crash.
This might actually be worth actually putting some real effort into. "Yeah, I've always wanted to learn a trade that didn't bore the shit out of me. One that matched my talents to my interests. Know what I mean."
As Mudak took him through the place, Yuri took a good look around. Peeling paint on the walls, floor felt like one foot wrong and you'd fall through -- yeah, this place looked just like he'd expected from the looks on the outside. A real place to score some good stuff. The guys at the table in the living room playing cards looked like some tough muscle, but if either of them gave him a hard time he'd have no problem making sure they knew which of them was the bitch of the group.
Mudak took Yuri into another room and turned on a blue light. Yuri noticed the chemistry set up right away. Lots of beakers and burners -- he'd already been told about the coke, but what were they making here? Crank, by the look of the cookery, but he didn't see any of the ingredients he would have expected. No ether or acid or other stuff like that. Just lots of boxes that said sugar on them.
Really? Mudak's miracle drug was made from sugar? Nah, that couldn't be right. What the fuck else did they do to it to make those pills?
He turned his attention back to Mudak. So the guy was going to offer him a job as a dealer or as muscle. Both would be easy as anything. But he wouldn't get a good hand on the good shit as muscle and from the looks of it Mudak was too tight with his supply for Yuri to be able to score some on the side that way -- fuck, he'd carried those pills himself to that last job.
Or -- "Trade secret, huh?"
He was offering Yuri a chance to learn how those pills were made? And then it struck him -- why had he never thought about making his own drugs? Such an obvious solution to so many problems that made so much more work for him. Working for money, stealing money, stealing stuff to sell for money, finding a dealer, haggling with a dealer, beating up a dealer...Fuck, he'd have so much extra time if he didn't have to do any of that and just make the shit himself. Then he'd have the money and the time to get his band together. And maybe get a nice pad too rather than live out of wherever he happened to crash.
This might actually be worth actually putting some real effort into. "Yeah, I've always wanted to learn a trade that didn't bore the shit out of me. One that matched my talents to my interests. Know what I mean."