"Eeeevening, Frank," a voice sang as its matching silhouette appeared in the doorway. The tall figure sauntered in, feeble fluorescent lights gradually illuminating an uncomfortably wide grin. Frank nodded in reply.
"You're early, boss man."
"Eh, couldn't help myself," the figure shrugged with a flourish of his hand, "I get bored without drama." The corner of his mouth unbalanced with the other in a smirk. Boss man sounded nice.
"Then this should be good, Jerome."
The two made their way down the stairwell, the smell of stagnant water in dark corners lingering in their nostrils. It didn't bother either of them - they had come to expect it. The buzzing of flies followed them, and Frank was less conscious of the sound of rats than he was the sensation of Jerome's gaze burning the nape of his neck.
"Who'd you guys nab this time? Poor, innocent do-gooder?" Jerome crooned, his arched eyebrows feigning sympathy. "Maybe a mid-life-crisis beer-belly chump trying to 'save the world?'"
"None of that tonight," Frank replied, his chest puffing out slightly.
"Well! That's a first! I'm glad, Frank," Jerome nodded, patting Frank on the back a bit too forcefully. "I've been feeling a tiny bit…let down by the general populous lately. People are damn cowards." His gaze turned to his employee, punctuated with a short chuckle; for a second Frank swore he saw something dangerous pass over his eyes. "Or maybe you guys just need to step up your game. Huh?"
He tore his eyes away from Jerome's.
"That's not been a problem tonight. Boys got in a piece of work."
Jerome playfully jumped over the last few stairs; he snickered. "Well, our definitions of 'piece of work' may differ juuust a little."
Frank cleared his throat and hid his annoyance somewhere under his tongue.
"Not this time. This dude is hysterical or something." He could almost see Jerome's ears pricking in interest.
"Oh really?"
"They bit a hunk out of Ferguson's arm if that's the kind of answer you're looking for. Wanna meet the guy?"
Jerome looked at Frank as if he were a waiter bringing out a steak dinner.
"If I may."
The two strode into the next room, opening one more door and inching their way through. It was dim, the green-tinted lights reflecting against a glasslike, grimy wall. Jerome pulled up a stool, left behind from what used to be a nightclub dressing room. It wasn't the perfect hideout, but it had its advantages. Some of the men enjoyed the presence of the still-gleaming metal stripper poles. Jerome preferred the two-way mirror.
"Alrighty!" he piped, grabbing the bottle of beer that was already waiting for him and kicking his feet up onto the edge of the mirror. "Lets get this show on the road!"