[ good luck finding someone else to get your weed from now, 'cause it sure as hell ain't gonna be from me. that causes gator to pause, still standing on the door as his fingers twitch toward his thigh holster. he turns his head, chin to shoulder, but he doesn't look at eddie.
he merely hears him collapse into a heap, mouth running off in a way gator hasn't heard before. it's comical, so gator laughs. it's low at first, a huff of derisive air, before he lets out a full belly-laugh, stepping back off of the door and resting his hand over his chest. he laughs at eddie, mocking, then turns to billy, laughing at him, too. it's as if this is all some kind of joke, as if he's been pranking the both of them - but nothing could be further from the truth.
after his laugh dwindles into nothing but amused noises, gator then pulls his gun casually. he points at eddie with it, then billy, tears in his eyes from laughing too much. they actually think they'll be protected now? dealing weed, speeding around town, the both of them having too much carte-fucking-blanche. gator pulls back the hammer with a dull click, then points the gun upward. he doesn't know who he'll shoot first - but he has to make his baseline clear. ]
You fuckin' shitheels think you're gonna still be protected? You lost that fuckin' privilege. Y'see -
[ the gun goes off, a loud bang! to wake them both up. to shock them. to jolt them from their defiant comfort. pink mist erupts from the ceiling again, insulation falling, fiberglass like dust. gator grins, then points the gun at billy first: ]
I bet there's weed in here right now, ain't there, possession with intent to sell? And you -
[ over to eddie, the gun's barrel aimed at his chest. gator cocks back the hammer again, and it doesn't matter that he loved them. it doesn't matter that he once thought he would be happy. what matters now is punishment. the more severe, the better. ]
Possession with an attempt to sell, oh, resisting arrest -
[ another laugh, and gator flicks the word sheriff across his chest with his free thumb and forefinger. ]
Oh, you're both fuckin' going to jail unless you do somethin' for me.
[ Billy is trying his very hardest to stand firm, to not fall right back to pieces on the floor. There's so much rage in him it's hard to even stay still, but lashing out at Eddie is what got him here, and lashing out at Gator will put him in the ground. So he shivers at Gator's laughter, but stays planted where he stands.
He doesn't care about being protected. He's leaving and never turning back, never wants to see either of their stupid fucking faces ever again, both those pairs of big brown eyes that'll haunt him forever, wondering, what if? What if he he hadn't fucked all of this up? Gator -- Gator's fucked up, worse than he is, he thinks. Billy's pretty sure that's why he's so drawn to him. Being with him is punishing. But Eddie -- Eddie's sweet. Too sweet for either of them. And it's really starting to hit Billy just how much he really did like him.
He flinches hard as Gator fires his gun again, clenching his jaw. It's hard to look like he doesn't care about any of this when he's trembling, staring Gator down as he points his pistol at him. It'd be so easy for Gator to end this now. Blow his brains out, hide the evidence - his family would probably see his disappearance as a long overdue blessing.
As the Glock goes from being aimed at him to at Eddie, Billy feels faint. Sick to his stomach, too, guts tying themselves in knots. His palms are clammy, hands shaking at his sides, and it doesn't surprise him in the slightest that Gator's holding a threat over both of their heads. It's always been a power play with him - that's what gets him off. It's no wonder he's been fucking a couple of misfits who have trouble staying on the right side of the law. He swallows, and his voice feels so quiet under the ringing in his ears. ]
Name it, then. I'll do it.
[ And then neither of them will ever see or hear from him ever again. He'll leave them both behind just like the rest of this good for nothing town. It's a shame he didn't a lot sooner. ]
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he merely hears him collapse into a heap, mouth running off in a way gator hasn't heard before. it's comical, so gator laughs. it's low at first, a huff of derisive air, before he lets out a full belly-laugh, stepping back off of the door and resting his hand over his chest. he laughs at eddie, mocking, then turns to billy, laughing at him, too. it's as if this is all some kind of joke, as if he's been pranking the both of them - but nothing could be further from the truth.
after his laugh dwindles into nothing but amused noises, gator then pulls his gun casually. he points at eddie with it, then billy, tears in his eyes from laughing too much. they actually think they'll be protected now? dealing weed, speeding around town, the both of them having too much carte-fucking-blanche. gator pulls back the hammer with a dull click, then points the gun upward. he doesn't know who he'll shoot first - but he has to make his baseline clear. ]
You fuckin' shitheels think you're gonna still be protected? You lost that fuckin' privilege. Y'see -
[ the gun goes off, a loud bang! to wake them both up. to shock them. to jolt them from their defiant comfort. pink mist erupts from the ceiling again, insulation falling, fiberglass like dust. gator grins, then points the gun at billy first: ]
I bet there's weed in here right now, ain't there, possession with intent to sell? And you -
[ over to eddie, the gun's barrel aimed at his chest. gator cocks back the hammer again, and it doesn't matter that he loved them. it doesn't matter that he once thought he would be happy. what matters now is punishment. the more severe, the better. ]
Possession with an attempt to sell, oh, resisting arrest -
[ another laugh, and gator flicks the word sheriff across his chest with his free thumb and forefinger. ]
Oh, you're both fuckin' going to jail unless you do somethin' for me.
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He doesn't care about being protected. He's leaving and never turning back, never wants to see either of their stupid fucking faces ever again, both those pairs of big brown eyes that'll haunt him forever, wondering, what if? What if he he hadn't fucked all of this up? Gator -- Gator's fucked up, worse than he is, he thinks. Billy's pretty sure that's why he's so drawn to him. Being with him is punishing. But Eddie -- Eddie's sweet. Too sweet for either of them. And it's really starting to hit Billy just how much he really did like him.
He flinches hard as Gator fires his gun again, clenching his jaw. It's hard to look like he doesn't care about any of this when he's trembling, staring Gator down as he points his pistol at him. It'd be so easy for Gator to end this now. Blow his brains out, hide the evidence - his family would probably see his disappearance as a long overdue blessing.
As the Glock goes from being aimed at him to at Eddie, Billy feels faint. Sick to his stomach, too, guts tying themselves in knots. His palms are clammy, hands shaking at his sides, and it doesn't surprise him in the slightest that Gator's holding a threat over both of their heads. It's always been a power play with him - that's what gets him off. It's no wonder he's been fucking a couple of misfits who have trouble staying on the right side of the law. He swallows, and his voice feels so quiet under the ringing in his ears. ]
Name it, then. I'll do it.
[ And then neither of them will ever see or hear from him ever again. He'll leave them both behind just like the rest of this good for nothing town. It's a shame he didn't a lot sooner. ]