Big Fat started laughin’ again. “You changin’ your tune now, I thought you said you was givin’ me my proper dues, seein’ as how it was my turf and all?”
“I meant I didn't want trouble.”
“Look, you came to me. Obviously you know what’s what, otherwise you wouldn’t be here now, you’d be in Kobold Town right this instant, doin’ whatever dirt it is you do, and gettin’ ready to be killed by one of my guys.” He shrugged his fat shoulders, seemingly in mock imitation of me. “So don’t get high and mighty with me, you got it? You wanna earn but you don’t wanna be on my crew? That ain’t no sweat off my back, but if you want some of Kobold Town, then you gonna pay me one way or another.”
“What the fuck…” I muttered.
“What was that?” Big Fat yelled, leanin’ forward some.
“I didn’t come over here to get shaken down.” I gritted my teeth, gettin’ pissed. “I came here to show you the respect due to you, and to go about my business.”
“If your business be in Kobold Town, then it’s my business too, no?” Big Fat smirked. “I’ll tell ya what, since you’re such a clever little fuck, lemme make it worth your while. You kick up to me, and I’ll make sure you don’t get fucked with in the area, shit, if you do good maybe I’ll give you your own turf officially, and maybe I’ll just go head and put you on my crew whether you wanna be or not.” He grew thoughtful for a moment. “Kinda like the idea of a hob workin’ for me.”
“I’m not workin’ for you,” I grumbled, feelin’ like somehow the tables had been turned on me.
“Not yet,” Big Fat replied firmly, lookin’ at me strangely, “no, not yet. Come back here tomorrow, I’ll see what I got for ya.”
“Alright,” I said, somewhat dubiously. I didn’t like the ideas this fat fuck was gettin’ in his head, but if I wanted to ply my trade and not work for my cousin, this was gonna have to be the first step.
“Meeting’s over!” The mohawk orc standin’ by Big Fat Ton’s seat announced suddenly, comin’ up to me and shovin’ me off. As I was walkin’ out of the playground, a ugly human, guy must have had a little orc mixed in with his ginny, even if he wasn’t a full on hybrid, was walkin’ by me in the opposite direction, headin’ towards Big Fat and the orcs over there. He nodded to me briefly as our eyes met, and I saw a name stitched into his greaseball bowler shirt, Mikey, as he went by me. He looked a little apprehensive, and for some reason he looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Was he on the news…? I wondered, makin’ my way over to the car.
I headed back up route 13, towards Baron’s Street. I had a sour feelin’ in my belly and I wasn’t quite sure why, but it probably had somethin’ to do with that meetin’ I just had with the orc, Big Fat Ton. Shal really wasn’t kiddin’. I chuckled somewhat sourly. That big fat fuck is really runnin’ his shit from a fuckin’ playground. Motherfucker was even sittin’ big and heavy on some crazy ass lookin’ playground equipment that he clearly commandeered for his own personal use. As I was turnin’ on Baron’s Street, somethin’ to my left caught my eye.
“Hey, what the fuck!” I yelled, my eyes buggin’ out of my fuckin’ head. I must have been dreamin’, ‘cause for a split second I could have sworn I just saw that dragonborn hybrid girl standin’ there at the corner of Baron’s Street, a white hoodie up over her head, the one that had been in the train car container with Tyzee and Alelicia. I had to slam my brakes, I nearly smashed into some old hobgoblin’s big ass Lincoln tryin’ to get a better look at the girl, but within a moment she was gone. I really thought I was losin’ it, I must have been so stressed out that I was seein’ ghosts or some shit. I shook my head, deciding it must have been a trick of the light, my mind playin’ tricks on me, and, checkin’ the time, I figured Shal was probably at The Hob’s Delight already, so I headed straight there instead of goin’ through the same routine as yesterday.
I pulled up to the back of The Hob’s Delight, saw the champagne colored Cadillac that Shal had promptly seized when his old man got popped and sent to prison, so I parked nearby and walked around to the front, headin’ in. My reception this time was a world different from yesterday. The pretty hob waitress was all smiles, really layin’ the sweet act on thick, tellin’ me if I need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate. The goblins nearby chattered excitedly, some started runnin’ around as I made my way to the back of the restaurant. Some hobgoblins throughout the joint raised their glass to me, outta respect for the capo’s cousin. The big bugbear butcher stopped his choppin’, raised his blood drenched old butcher knife to me in mock salute, nodded to me and went back to makin’ filets and prime cuts out of a variety of meats, everything from poultry to beef, to more exotic, big game type meat.
A hot little hobgoblin waitress ran right in front of me, big bush of curly hair on her head, was about to talk some shit to me for nearly walkin’ into her, but when she looked at me she decided against it, flashin’ me a toothy smile and a wink before continuing on her way. I was smiling myself, truth be told I felt like I was in a dream. I hadn’t been treated this good when I went somewhere since I was a young hobgoblin, back when my grandsire and my old man were still alive, still makin’ moves.
I got to the back room, with the big black door in front of me, stopping a couple feet in front of Big Red, the goon that had been my cousin’s doorman and bodyguard yesterday. The big guy looked back at me vacantly for a moment, then when his eyes focused on me I saw him tense, saw his muscles and eyes bulge.
“Look, Popeye, I don’t want no trouble today,” I began wearily.
He immediately opened the door, holdin’ out a large, overly muscled red hand. “Please, right this way, sir.”
I proceeded forward, a little slowly, fearin’ another possible trick, not necessarily on this asshole’s part but on my cousin’s behalf—for all I knew he wanted a do over at pointing a gun right between my eyes. When I walked by him and was about to pass him and step into the back room, I stopped for a moment and turned to face him fully, makin’ sure he saw my eyes lookin’ back into his.
“No hard feelings, alright?” I nodded to him.
“Of course,” he mumbled, beginning to sweat.
I felt a little bad, this guy was stand up and it seemed my cousin Shal might have had some words with him after I left. “Really, man.” I patted him on a massive and ridiculously muscled arm. “You’re alright, I’m not gonna hold it against you. You were lookin’ out for your boss, I’d be a real fuckin’ jerk if I didn’t respect that.”
Big red nodded to me, held out his other hand a little nervously, and I grasped it in my own, givin’ a firm shake. “You’re stand up, Teek, you got more class than I gave you credit for.”
“Likewise,” I observed, then turned away from him, headin’ into the backroom of The Hob’s Delight, where Shal was waitin’ for me.
“Ohhh! There he is!” Shal chortled jubilantly, grippin’ a hand of cards, sittin’ in front of a pile of cash on the table, surrounded by some of his guys. “My cousin, the notorious Teek! Your pointy ass ears must be ringin’!” He paused as some of his goons laughed. “We was just wonderin’ how it went, down at the jungle gyms.” He started laughin’ raucously with his crew. Guess big mouth over there told everyone and their mother ‘bout my fuckin’ plans. I looked over at the table of hobgoblins laughin’ at my expense. That’s just great. I grinned at Shal and walked over to the table, slidin’ into one of the empty seats across from my cousin.
“We were about to start pullin’ straws, see who was gonna go pull your little ass outta there,” Shal quipped, his eyes flickin’ from me to the pile of cash on the table, at least half of it probably his, then looked over at the hobgoblin on my left. “Nolo, he smell alright? He need a hose down?”
The hobgoblin, Nolo, leaned over and sniffed at me loudly a few times, then looked over at Shal. “I don’t know, boss, he do got a funk to ‘em, though.”
Shal and the other hobgoblins at the table erupted into more laughter.
“Alright, take it easy.” I grinned, puttin’ a hand up. “You’re worse than a fuckin’ woman, breakin’ balls as soon as I come in the door, just like the—” I froze for a moment, biting my tongue hard, thinking, shut your fuckin’ mouth! You were worried ‘bout Skreech talkin’, you’re about to fuckin’ rat yourself out!
“Just like what? Who?” Shal asked distractedly, lookin’ up at me.
I coughed, actin’ like I had somethin’ in my throat. “Just like… Just like the fuckin’ goblins!” I tried to think quickly who else was a general pain in the ass. “You know how it is, you walk in the door, they’re sittin’ there, they hop up, start jumpin’ off the walls chitterin’ and chatterin’ and yammerin’ on, askin’ where you been, all that.”
A couple of the hobgoblins playin’ cards with Shal nodded, having been hassled by their own goblins.
Shal nodded. “Oh, right. Yea, the goblins.” He was fidgeting with his hand of cards, and I knew that was his tell sign that he either had somethin’ great or shit. “You got a point there.” He reached down into somethin’ I couldn’t see, I heard a rustling, then his hand came up, holdin’ stacks of cash with red rubber bands around ‘em, which he promptly tossed onto the pile of dough already on the table. “I nearly slapped the piss outta one of mine. He’s loyal as a wolfdog I’ll give ‘em that, but I swear the little shit would follow me into the fuckin’ bathroom half the time if I didn’t tell ‘em to wait outside. Somethin’ might have to be done, we might have to remind the little guys who they’re gettin’ uppity with.”
“You talkin’ about a hunt, boss? Like back in the day?” One of the hobgoblins to the right of me asked, a little too eagerly.
I felt a slight hint of guilt as Shal chuckled at the notion, since my small lie could be the cause of so much misery for the goblin families that could be affected by the potential hunt. Time was, and I’m talkin’ way back in the day as it hasn’t been necessary since, but back then, the hobgoblins were enforced to hunt the goblins, to try and cull the populations, to decimate them. We made them, but like any slave population in history the fuckin’ world over, inevitably, they revolted against us, and our ancestors did what they thought they had to do, as they depended on the slave labor the goblins generated. The situation was similar with the bugbears, we made them long ago to serve us, but they remained consistently loyal and submissive to hobgoblins, plus their intense internal rivalries kept them brutalizing each other and so we didn’t have to control their population anywhere near the extent and on the scale that the goblins suffered.
“Teek, why don’t you play a hand?” Shal asked, his eyes quickly movin’ from me to the pile of money on the table. “The temperature’s just right.” A couple of the guys on his crew glanced at me sideways and suppressed grumbles at my unwelcome invitation.
I held up a hand. “That’s alright, this game’s too rich for me right this moment.” Some of the hobgoblins around the table looked a little relieved.
“Hmph.” Shal snorted a derisive laugh, givin’ me a funny look, then, as his card dealer was havin’ the crew reveal their hands, Shal laid his down. “Read ‘em and weep my boys!” He cried. “Kings rule the realm!” He laughed maniacally, revealing three kings, one of hearts, one of diamonds, one of crowns; hobgoblins played with an augmented deck of cards.
“The capo wins the hand,” the monotone card dealer announced to the right of Shal. My cousin suddenly stood up, leaned forward and threw his fuckin’ arms around the mountain of cash on the table, completely encircling it within his embrace, dragging it back towards himself. Some of his crew grumbled and looked nonplussed, though a couple mumbled out a ‘well done, boss,’ or ‘hey boss, you’re on a roll!’. I was kinda appalled by what I was seein’, to be honest. It was pretty rare to get three kings in one hand, and I didn’t know if his guys were lettin’ him win or what, but it was lookin’ like this wasn’t the first time, maybe not even today, that he was givin’ his own people a run for their money, then happily, greedily raking it up, right in front of their very faces.
“So, cuz.” Shal sat down, motioning for the card dealer to shuffle and get another hand goin’. “What’s really good with Big Fat Ton? How’d your sit down go?”
I shook my head, grinnin’ at him. “I didn’t believe it when you told me, but you sure weren’t lyin’. That big fat fucker turned a playground into a seat for his fat ass… Kind of a shame to see the old playground turned to shit like that, but we talked.”
“And?” Shal held his index and middle finger together and spun them, much like I did, in an impatient notion tellin’ the recipient to hurry the fuck up with them details, get the fuck on with it. The card dealer had dealt out another hand and Shal grabbed a handful of cash, drizzled it into the pot.
“And it is what it is,” I continued, accepting a glass of wine from one of the crew still at the table. “I’ll start tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you ashamed?” Nolo, the hobgoblin to the left of me wrenched his mouth like he was sucking on a lemon. The ugly puckered jagged scar runnin’ from his cheek down to his neck seemed to pulse. He was what some hobs called a tiger, or a candy cane if you were wanting to be insulting, ‘cause all along his reddish brown flesh he had jagged white stripes. “You rather work for that orc slob over your own cousin, your own people?”
“It ain’t like that.” I turned to him.
“No? What’s it like, then?” He shot back.
“Nolo,” Shal said firmly, silencing the tiger hobgoblin, then turned to me. “He ain’t wrong, though.” He rapidly slipped the cards in his hand around each other, turned his eyes to the cash already on the table then back to me. “So, you’re really doin’ it, then?”
I nodded slowly. “You know why I’m doin’ it, it ain’t personal and it ain’t outta disrespect.”
Shal looked me in the eyes for a long minute, seemed to come to some internal conclusion, nodded, then put his cards down.
“Cash me out, I gotta talk to Teek, okay?” Shal voiced to his crew sittin’ around him. Some of them shot a quick glance my way, but they all nodded quietly and rose together, some leavin’ the backroom, others movin’ to another table.
Chapter 13
“As you can tell, my guys aren't all that happy about your decision,” Shal rumbled, sippin’ on his glass of wine, “they can’t figure out why I’m letting you go work for Big Fat.”
I shook my head. “Hold up, Shal, you ain't lettin’ me do nothin’.”
“Yo, listen,” he snarled, puttin’ his glass down hard, sendin’ little droplets of wine out of the glass and onto his jewel encrusted rings. “I’m the capo, I’m the older one. By rights, I could have this go down a lot different than it is. You're supposed to be the smart one, you know this.”
“We talked about this already.”
“I understand your reasoning, but they don’t get it.” He looked away from me for a moment. “And even if I understand it, I don’t necessarily agree with it.”
“Shal, you know you’re my brother—”
“Easy with the grease gun, alright?” He batted the air with a hand. “I meant to lay this on ya last night but you breezed outta the house for your little date before I could. I got somethin’ for ya.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, a little baffled.
Suddenly, and smiling like a nut, Shal reached down next to him, grabbed a hold of something, and hoisted it up onto the table. It was a black leather sack, and it was bulging. Shal was still lookin’ at me, waitin’ for me to respond or say somethin’, but when I didn’t, he nodded toward the bag.
“It’s for you, cuz.” He smirked, and I got a sick feeling in my belly. He noticed I wasn’t smilin’ back, and his smile started to disappear. “It’s somethin’ to help you get on your feet, get you started on the right track.”
Shit, I was worried that’s what he was gonna say… Fuck! I looked at my cousin in the eyes. I need the dough, I’d be fuckin’ lyin’ if I said I didn’t, but I can’t
take his cash. I won’t be beholden to him, not in any way, and if I took this bag of loot, that’s what would happen. I reached a hand out, placin’ it on the bag, lookin’ at Shal, then slowly pushed the bag of cash back towards him, feelin’ a little guilty as I watched the hope and happiness dim and disappear from his eyes.
“Shal, I appreciate it...” I uttered, keepin’ my eyes on his as I took my hand off of the bag. “More than you know, man, I appreciate it. But I can’t take your money.”
“What?”
“I didn’t come here for a hand out!” I growled. “I came here to make my own way. Do I need a cash injection? Fuckin’ A right I do, but I’m gonna make it with my own two hands and usin’ my head, not ‘cause my cousin, the fuckin’ capo, handed it to me.”
Shal looked at me like I had just physically smacked him in the face, his face contorted into one of hurt and disappointed rage for a moment, but then he nodded.
“Alright, Teek.” He pulled the leather sack full of dough over to him, then plopped it on the seat to his left, sat down and poured himself a fresh glass of wine, pointedly not pourin’ one for me. “You strapped, cuz? I imagine if you’re gonna be puttin’ in work with those tricky ass orcs, you might need some heat.” He got up, looked around the room ‘til he spotted one of his crew that had stuck behind in the back room, nodded to him, and when that hobgoblin nodded back and ran out of the room Shal sat back down, turning to me.
“What’s up with that?” I cocked an eyebrow vaguely in the direction of the hobgoblin that had run out.
He shook his head. “He’ll be back in a minute, don’t worry ‘bout him.” He paused, grabbed the carafe of wine on the table, his rings clinkin’ against the glass, poured it casually into the empty glass in front of me. “So? Did ya come heavy or what?”
I waited for him to finish pouring and put the carafe down before answering, but the hobgoblin that had run out a few moments before came back in, carryin’ one end of a large crate with another hobgoblin that he must have grabbed for assistance. Bringin’ it over to the table and placing it down gently, they then headed back over to the table where the one hobgoblin had been sittin’ before, havin’ started up another card game with some of the crew that had stuck behind when Shal told them to give him some time to chop it up with me.
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