Well, I’m an expert at this (or so it would seem). I’m not sure how I feel about this whole “feeding off of emotions” thing, it’s new to me yet. I… fed? harvested?… off of a suit in a strip club, he was so… flustered, frustrated… horny as hell… even the memory’s a rush, and damn, it was so overwhelming. Like bein’ drunk.
Then there was the market. All of the August Motley went as a bunch, en’t much of a surprise there. I did better than I thought, Ms. Silver ought t’ be pleased. Wouldn’t you know it, we en’t been there five minutes and I found Miss Leah. She didn’t want to talk much, understandable— but I got a fair piece outta her. She was in the business of movin’ the stuff, and she did know Mr. Tallum. I still gotta find out ‘bout him, but she was nice enough t’ tell me a little of how things work. She and Mr. Pockets drop off the base to a gentleman Mr. Pockets referred to as “Greek”. I bought a hit of Morse off him— not for me, mind you, it’s for Roy— and I offered to help deliver for some information. Leah gave me the box— last shipment, she says— I’m supposed to drop it at the loading dock at the MGM Grand.
We’ll see how that goes. The only other thing I could get outta her was that “there’s somethin’ wrong with Spring”. I told the rest of the motley about it, they’re kind enough t’ help me out. We’ll see how that goes, too.
One more thing I ought t’ mention. There was a creepy little goblin at the market sellin’ dreams. Dr. Sinclair, I believe it was. I bought one off him— he was willin’ to sell it for a song. I can’t remember what I sang, and I won’t get it back, but what I got in return might just prove much more valuable… Roy’s dream, the night ’fore he shuffled off this mortal coil.
I’m in over my head, I think.
“There ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
The light I’ve never known
Oh now it ain’t no use in turnin’ on your light, babe
I’m on the dark side of the road." (ST)