“The Triple Entente Strategy, Eh?”
Feb 4, 2021 21:08:14 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer and Justin like this
Post by Joseph Mack on Feb 4, 2021 21:08:14 GMT -5
We open on Joseph Mack on a wintery Montreal morning, approaching his apartment building as he slows from a jog; his lower face is covered by a combined neck warmer and facemask, a wool toque on his head, otherwise covered head to toe in layers to combat the cold. He comes to a stop, waving a gloved hand in greeting to another man, almost as tall as him but much leaner, dressed more normally for the cold.
“Luc, early morning for you.”
“Salut Mack. Jenny wants ice cream, so I’m ‘eaded to the store.”
“It’s 6am, it’s 15 below and she wants ice cream?”
Luc shrugs, his expression hidden behind his scarf.
“Seven months pregnant. She say "I want some fuckin' ice cream!", I go get ice cream.”
“Yeah, fair. Want some company?”
The Frenchman nods in assent and the two fall into step together.
“So, I see you got new partners for fighting those Syndicate totons. At least you’re not walking in alone this time, eh?”
Mack shrugs as they walk along.
“Yeah, Lord Dominicus and Timeless.”
“Timeless, that’s the one ‘as the blonde, oui? Avec les boules comme-”
Luc makes a gesture miming a pair of massive bosoms on his chest.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one. Fuck, not sure how it’s gonna work. Far as I know those two don’t like each other. I’ve got no beef with Timeless but he doesn’t seem like a huge ‘teamwork makes the dream work’ kinda guy.”
“You ‘elped out the mask one though, at least there’s that.”
“Yeah… not sure how he does with repaying favours or anything like that. And with whoever gets the win getting a title shot I gotta worry about those two trying to wipe each other out to make sure it’s them securing us the W. It’s… it’s just gonna be a shitshow, really.”
The two arrive at a convenience store, pausing outside. The camera pans and through the door we can see a maskless, agitated man yelling at the cashier, arms flailing dramatically. Luc mutters, shaking his head before moving for the door, Mack stopping him.
“I got this. Could use a little exercise.”
“Yeah? You thinking Twisted Tea?”
“Nah… Uncle Phil. Hold the door for me?”
The camera stays on Luc as he opens the door for Mack, holding it. A moment later the agitated stranger comes flying with a startled yell, horizontal about four feet in the air before crashing down onto the pavement. The man staggers to his feet slowly and Luc places a big winter boot on his ass, pushing him headfirst into a snowbank. Mack steps back outside, Luc chuckling from behind his scarf.
“Portes ta masque, stupid.”
Luc nods to Mack, who stands outside the door staring the stranger down as he stumbles up once again and beats a hasty, completely undignified retreat. A moment later Luc emerges from the store with a plastic bag in hand, a tub of ice cream outlined in it.
“Feel a little better now?”
Mack laughs a little, his grin hidden behind his own mask.
“Yeah, a bit. Seriously, it’s been almost a year. Fuckin’ idiots can’t figure this shit out.”
The two men begin to walk again, a few flakes of snow starting to drift down.
“So… ‘ow you gonna deal wit’ two men who don’t want partners and don’t like each other? ‘Ow you gonna make that team work?”
Mack sighs and shrugs once more.
“When in doubt, I guess just try to remind them how much more they hate Eric Dane and his boys, let that be the thing that brings us together.”
“The Triple Entente strategy, eh?”
Mack laughs a little.
“Exactly. Just like France, Britain and Russia. None of us particularly like each other but we all agree Germany and the Austro-Hungarians need to get fucked.”
The two men share a laugh as the shot fades out.
“Luc, early morning for you.”
“Salut Mack. Jenny wants ice cream, so I’m ‘eaded to the store.”
“It’s 6am, it’s 15 below and she wants ice cream?”
Luc shrugs, his expression hidden behind his scarf.
“Seven months pregnant. She say "I want some fuckin' ice cream!", I go get ice cream.”
“Yeah, fair. Want some company?”
The Frenchman nods in assent and the two fall into step together.
“So, I see you got new partners for fighting those Syndicate totons. At least you’re not walking in alone this time, eh?”
Mack shrugs as they walk along.
“Yeah, Lord Dominicus and Timeless.”
“Timeless, that’s the one ‘as the blonde, oui? Avec les boules comme-”
Luc makes a gesture miming a pair of massive bosoms on his chest.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one. Fuck, not sure how it’s gonna work. Far as I know those two don’t like each other. I’ve got no beef with Timeless but he doesn’t seem like a huge ‘teamwork makes the dream work’ kinda guy.”
“You ‘elped out the mask one though, at least there’s that.”
“Yeah… not sure how he does with repaying favours or anything like that. And with whoever gets the win getting a title shot I gotta worry about those two trying to wipe each other out to make sure it’s them securing us the W. It’s… it’s just gonna be a shitshow, really.”
The two arrive at a convenience store, pausing outside. The camera pans and through the door we can see a maskless, agitated man yelling at the cashier, arms flailing dramatically. Luc mutters, shaking his head before moving for the door, Mack stopping him.
“I got this. Could use a little exercise.”
“Yeah? You thinking Twisted Tea?”
“Nah… Uncle Phil. Hold the door for me?”
The camera stays on Luc as he opens the door for Mack, holding it. A moment later the agitated stranger comes flying with a startled yell, horizontal about four feet in the air before crashing down onto the pavement. The man staggers to his feet slowly and Luc places a big winter boot on his ass, pushing him headfirst into a snowbank. Mack steps back outside, Luc chuckling from behind his scarf.
“Portes ta masque, stupid.”
Luc nods to Mack, who stands outside the door staring the stranger down as he stumbles up once again and beats a hasty, completely undignified retreat. A moment later Luc emerges from the store with a plastic bag in hand, a tub of ice cream outlined in it.
“Feel a little better now?”
Mack laughs a little, his grin hidden behind his own mask.
“Yeah, a bit. Seriously, it’s been almost a year. Fuckin’ idiots can’t figure this shit out.”
The two men begin to walk again, a few flakes of snow starting to drift down.
“So… ‘ow you gonna deal wit’ two men who don’t want partners and don’t like each other? ‘Ow you gonna make that team work?”
Mack sighs and shrugs once more.
“When in doubt, I guess just try to remind them how much more they hate Eric Dane and his boys, let that be the thing that brings us together.”
“The Triple Entente strategy, eh?”
Mack laughs a little.
“Exactly. Just like France, Britain and Russia. None of us particularly like each other but we all agree Germany and the Austro-Hungarians need to get fucked.”
The two men share a laugh as the shot fades out.