Language warning in character and in the background music.
Cheri gratefully took the hankie and smiled at her friend over Cael's shoulder, mouthing "okay" as she stayed in the hug. And then she opened opened her mouth to go 'Wha-?" before bursting into wild laughter as Cael hefted her off of her feet. Stage experience served to let her hold the front of her skirt in place with her free hand, up there you always had to mind your wardrobe, but she knew that anyone who cared to look would probably get a full view of her rear even with her tail trying to hold the back half of her skirt up. Honestly she didn't care, no one was in that direction anyway. "Cael, what are you doing!?" she cried, her smile bright and infectious as she let her other arm hook around his shoulders. "You don't even have a car, what chariot?" She could barely talk for laughing so much. This was exactly what she had been hoping for. Pure, unbridled mirth!
Red stopped talking to Prim and just stared, open-mouthed. Chariot? Seriously? "You complete fucktard...just...I...what?" DeWitt, I don't know how many you fucking had before you got here, but tell me where the hell you bought it next time. Geez, the last time he'd done something that damn corny was when he was, what, eleven and his voice was cracking? And even then he'd at least had a bike right there...sure she'd been 16 and he'd gotten shot down, but still...He was about to turn back to Prim and offer some commentary when his phone
rang out of nowhere.
"Shit, hold on, gotta take this!"
He stepped away over by the trees, and spoke under his breath. "What's up, you guys need backup?"
"Dude are you gonna smash tonight?"
"What?"
"Are. You. Gonna. Smash. Tonight?"
"Johnny Boy, I don't know what the shit you mean. Do you need backup?"
"Nah bro it's cool, I'm just checking in to see if you're getting some of that sweet, sweet..."
"If you say what I think you're gonna say I swear I will stab your fucking eyes the next time I see you."
"Chill dude, chill. I just want you to get laid and be happy."
"And I want you to not fucking call me unless you need me to come help you whip ass, and to not talk about girls like that, you dickhead. Bye, bitch!"
After hanging up, Red walked back over to Prim. "Sorry about that, you're not the only one with dumbass teammates."
Somewhere in the rough part of Vale, Johnny Boy laughed to himself, put away his scroll, and walked back up to Dutch's side. Both of them were decked out in gold chains, wife beaters, and do-rags. Their baggy jeans dragged the floor over their overly large sneakers, and they stood with their arms crossed, waiting for an answer from the man in front of them.
"Imma axe you one more time, foo. Big Lien don't like bein' kept waitin', yo." Dutch said, his accent honed by years of practice. He swung his hands as he talked, waving them aggressively in the taller man's face. "I want those motha fuckas who slayed that Roux fucka an' his lil' bitch boy. I got some heads I want knocked off an' I know good work when I sees it, you know what I sayin'? Where da fuck Bagman at? Big Lien is axein' you right now!" he shouted, his temporary grill flashing in the low, gritty light.
The man in front of them, wearing the standard White Fang "uniform", said nothing, and the two-dozen men standing around the abandoned garage gave no indication that they were watching the proceedings.
"Aight, if you don't start tellin' me shit or givin' me a numba I can call or somethin', Imma have mah boy heah tear yo head clean off."
"Yeah, bitch, yo bones gonna make bee-yoot-iful music when I break 'em." Johnny Boy added, flexing. The man drew on them then, and
the gloves were off. Before he could bring the pistol to bear, Dutch had clocked him hard with a right, knocking his mask loose and obscuring his vision. Everyone rushed them, and Johnny Boy caught the first one so hard he went flying back through two more. Dutch twisted his opponent's arm behind his back, forcing him to drop the gun with an audible crack. He used the man as a shield against the first katana thrust and then knocked him out from behind before tripping his attacker and using his stun baton to crack him on the back of his skull.
Every fist from Johnny Boy dropped another one as he moved in a jerky circle around his smaller friend, either completely slipping through their guard or crashing home as if it weren't there. Those that dodged him were met with sweeping, almost rapier-style slashes from Dutch's stun baton, first halting their movement and then dispatching them in the next strike. In a few short moments it was over, and all their opponents lay around them unconscious and in many cases in need of medical attention.
Dutch brushed an unfamiliar tooth off of his shirt-front. "How positively wretched. Well, nothing for it, then. They either did not know or were unwilling to comply. I shall contact the authorities and arrange for a pickup, and perhaps this evening will not be a total loss. How unfortunate that Mr. Heron won our little game of chess and was allowed to sit this one out. He must be enjoying himself right now."
Johnny Boy laughed and kicked somebody who was starting to stir. "Don't tell me that wasn't fun, dude."
"Fun? Barbarism is never "fun", Mr. Encore. We did not obtain what we needed, this fight was a waste of our time." Dutch lectured, putting his scroll to his ear.