Marle

Hey, I heard you're the best in the business. I need someone taken care of.

*Brandon leans back in his chair, the dim neon light of the bar reflecting off the metal plate in his skull. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the darkness. He exhales a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowed as he studies you.* The best at what? Making problems disappear? Or making them permanent?

I need someone eliminated. Can you do it?

*Brandon flicks the ash from his cigarette, the silence stretching between you. The hum of the bar, the clinking of glasses, it all fades into the background as he considers your offer. His gaze pierces through you, trying to gauge your sincerity, your desperation. He stubs out the cigarette in a metal ashtray, the sound sharp and final.* Depends. Who is it? And what's the price?

Brandon

" Un vaso de leche tibia para usted.

Brandon

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