he's on the phone with his father, sheriff roy tillman, outside of a diner in north dakota. it's a chilly night, the wind like knives, gator taking a long drag from his vape before blowing the smoke upward. it gets carried in the breeze, strawberry-flavored. on the other end is sheriff roy tillman, gator's father. after a few questions, roy's tone becoming increasingly more annoyed, he cleared the trip to the border.
bowman is coming with you, and don't let this reporter out of your fuckin' sight. delete that goddamn app and put your dick back in your pants. i thought i raised you better than that. you're out another strike, kid.
gator, just a little worse for wear, ends the call and takes another long pull from the vape. bowman's gassing up the patrol suv, gator texting and signaling him to hurry the fuck up. whatever eddie brock wants tonight, he'll get. gator, sucking his front teeth, decides to go in a get coffee for everyone - and that includes mr. canada way. he pays for it, dumps his full of cream and sugar, then walks out back into the crisp night.
when bowman finally shows up, gator slides in the passenger side. he's seen eddie's text, so as he nestles the coffees between he and bowman, he sighs. this is fuckin' bullshit. it's bowman bitching, and gator shoots him a look. he shuts the fuck up then, and gator pulls out his phone. ]
send me the location.
[ he then opens grindr, deactivating his account. another drag from the vape, more smoke. he's pissed, more pissed than he's been in a long time, and he supposes it isn't really eddie's fault. he shouldn't have been messing around, and now he's got both eddie's horns and roy's shoved up his ass. this is going to be an interesting trip, so it would seem, gator's jaw setting as he waits for eddie to text back. ]
( eddie may have been bluffing about the extent of his research into the town, but it worked.
all towns have their secrets; gator just happened to give him an in, and eddie said the right things for once. fargo's not the only place with criminal activity running through it, but it's the town eddie landed in. tillman junior protects tillman senior, tillman senior keeps himself busy with all sorts of savory things. no one's so protective without reason. do the math, follow the trail. if eddie stuck close to roy around for a bit, he's sure he'd find something. sleuthing, stalking, it was his claim to fame in his heyday. and with venom around, getting access to closed-door conversations is that much easier.
the story he'd threatened gator with doesn't exist, not yet.
some part of eddie was looking forward to creating it. he misses the chase, the hunt for the truth, overturning stones to find what lies beneath. it hasn't been too long since the cletus case, but this feels different. bigger. everyone knew cletus cassidy; no one knows fargo, north dakota. the confident part of him that hasn't been worn down by weeks of sleeping on park benches and strangers' couches still takes pride in the idea that one of his pieces could put a town on the map.
what eddie sends is the directions to a gas station, nice and nondescript.
he's not happy to know there's another guy along for this trip. it feels like more of a liability, more room for messing up, but he's got his ride, so he'll deal. )
[ gator doesn't know that eddie's bluffing, so he goes along with it, taking it as seriously as possible. he's already been in the newspapers here and there for drug theft from the evidence room, as well as disappearing corpses. gator denies any involvement, and everyone's too afraid to speak up against the tillman name.
that's when he picks up eddie at one of the more deserted gas stations, telling him to get his shit in the fucking suv, he drags from his vape. he's annoyed more than anything else, boot up on the dash. he leans his head against the seat, window cracked. coffee is offered by bowman, gator's lip curling. he'll deny getting it if asked, as his deputy badge shines in the inner light of the car, and he can't have eddie thinking he gives a shit. ]
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he's on the phone with his father, sheriff roy tillman, outside of a diner in north dakota. it's a chilly night, the wind like knives, gator taking a long drag from his vape before blowing the smoke upward. it gets carried in the breeze, strawberry-flavored. on the other end is sheriff roy tillman, gator's father. after a few questions, roy's tone becoming increasingly more annoyed, he cleared the trip to the border.
bowman is coming with you, and don't let this reporter out of your fuckin' sight. delete that goddamn app and put your dick back in your pants. i thought i raised you better than that. you're out another strike, kid.
gator, just a little worse for wear, ends the call and takes another long pull from the vape. bowman's gassing up the patrol suv, gator texting and signaling him to hurry the fuck up. whatever eddie brock wants tonight, he'll get. gator, sucking his front teeth, decides to go in a get coffee for everyone - and that includes mr. canada way. he pays for it, dumps his full of cream and sugar, then walks out back into the crisp night.
when bowman finally shows up, gator slides in the passenger side. he's seen eddie's text, so as he nestles the coffees between he and bowman, he sighs. this is fuckin' bullshit. it's bowman bitching, and gator shoots him a look. he shuts the fuck up then, and gator pulls out his phone. ]
send me the location.
[ he then opens grindr, deactivating his account. another drag from the vape, more smoke. he's pissed, more pissed than he's been in a long time, and he supposes it isn't really eddie's fault. he shouldn't have been messing around, and now he's got both eddie's horns and roy's shoved up his ass. this is going to be an interesting trip, so it would seem, gator's jaw setting as he waits for eddie to text back. ]
You're right - this is fuckin' bullshit.
can't believe he called his dad
all towns have their secrets; gator just happened to give him an in, and eddie said the right things for once. fargo's not the only place with criminal activity running through it, but it's the town eddie landed in. tillman junior protects tillman senior, tillman senior keeps himself busy with all sorts of savory things. no one's so protective without reason. do the math, follow the trail. if eddie stuck close to roy around for a bit, he's sure he'd find something. sleuthing, stalking, it was his claim to fame in his heyday. and with venom around, getting access to closed-door conversations is that much easier.
the story he'd threatened gator with doesn't exist, not yet.
some part of eddie was looking forward to creating it. he misses the chase, the hunt for the truth, overturning stones to find what lies beneath. it hasn't been too long since the cletus case, but this feels different. bigger. everyone knew cletus cassidy; no one knows fargo, north dakota. the confident part of him that hasn't been worn down by weeks of sleeping on park benches and strangers' couches still takes pride in the idea that one of his pieces could put a town on the map.
what eddie sends is the directions to a gas station, nice and nondescript.
he's not happy to know there's another guy along for this trip. it feels like more of a liability, more room for messing up, but he's got his ride, so he'll deal. )
he called big poppa.
that's when he picks up eddie at one of the more deserted gas stations, telling him to get his shit in the fucking suv, he drags from his vape. he's annoyed more than anything else, boot up on the dash. he leans his head against the seat, window cracked. coffee is offered by bowman, gator's lip curling. he'll deny getting it if asked, as his deputy badge shines in the inner light of the car, and he can't have eddie thinking he gives a shit. ]
Take your fuckin' time, huh?