(N.B. This fic is set in a timeline just after the events of 'The Brothers Martinet', so elements like Joe and Tino's relationships to Esmeralda and Bianca respectively are non-existent.)
It was safe to say that as a whole, Clint City screamed out 'new'; architectural upgrades and the tallest skyscrapers the contractors had to offer, it was a rare sight to see any of the old-fashioned shops that had resided in the city for decades. And sandwiched between two of the newer architectural designs was a somewhat known curiosity shop, standing before the two, somewhat heavy-built males, Martino and Gino Jr. (more commonly known as Tino and Joe), who seemed to be staring at it.
"Heh, this is one of the places where I collect the protection money," the blonde said, staring up at the slowly decaying sign. "Never did understand why Don loves this place so much. What are we doing here anyway?"
"Casperiotrenkokistynitsa said I'm in need of something new for the performances and I'm not relying on anything of his," the older male responded, shuddering at the very thought of borrowing from his 'boss'. "Knowing my luck, he'd kill me for even thinking about it."
"...you must be like the only person out of anyone who can pronounce that bastardo's actual name."
"It's actually not that difficult," Joe said, with no hint of sarcasm or arrogance in his voice. "Though spelling it is a completely different matter altogether."
"Even Chopstick Fag could spell it," Tino scoffed, though his tone was in good faith. "I, T. It. Done."
Validating his little joke with a shake of the head and a chuckle, Joe began to head towards the door; quickly overtaken by his brother, he couldn't help gently sighing, hoping that Tino's very appearance wouldn't result in the shop disappearing off the face of the street.
However, it did seem that his very appearance had already resulted in a very nervous and frantic shopkeeper.
"Hey, what gives! The protection money isn't due for another three days!"
"Relax," the blonde said, just about managing to keep himself from chuckling at the shopkeep's sudden anxiety. "We're just looking."
"We?"
"Hi Dasein," the older Martinet said, closing the door behind him and causing the little bell on top to tinkle away. "I trust you're well?"
"Allo Joe, good to see you," the shopkeep responded, immediately seeming a lot calmer in his stance upon noticing the Freaks male; the calmness in his voice allowing his somewhat thick German accent to really show itself. "This Montana with you, then?"
"Yep. Don let him off heisting to spend time with his brother, yours truly, and I thought I'd introduce him to the place. Though it seems you know each other already, even if it's for the wrong reasons."
"I didn't know you two were brothers," Dasein said, his head tilting slightly like a curious canine as he stared at the two males. "I guess you can see it when you're together though. Well, if anything catches your eye, you know what to do."
And it seemed that the younger Martinet was doing just that, having found what looked like an oriental weapon and giving it a swing as if he wasn't a gangster but a deadly warrior.
"Watashi wa anata o korosudeshou, buta!" He yelled, stumbling a little on his bad pronunciation though it was obvious he was trying to mimic Aniki in a insulting way; suddenly tripping on his own two feet, he managed to dig the sharp point into the carpet as a way to balance himself and avoid breaking anything, especially Dasein's fear in him as no one feared a complete klutz.
"Hey! Put that weapon down!" The shopkeep exclaimed, his tone a mixture of franticness and irritation.
"This totally looks like something Chopstick Fag would use though," Tino commented, gently replacing it onto its holder and running his finger along the cold, metal blade; his gaze then wandering around the shop's other weird and wonderful items as he did so, he almost cut his finger upon his sudden jump when he noticed what looked like a sad and lonely marionette.
"Oh cazzo!" He hissed, putting his finger in his mouth and sighing a little with relief when he noticed his skin was still intact.
"Tino! For the love of dio, I swear I just want to..."
His attention also on the marionette, the older brother couldn't help trailing off in what seemed like a tone of awe. Taking a couple of steps forward to get a closer look at the sculpted figure, one glance at Dasein and his inviting nod was enough for Joe to carefully lift the marionette and hold her in his bulky arms. She was only the size of a child, perhaps just a little shorter than Angelo, but her plastic flesh and fragile frame meant she wasn't nearly half as heavy, and not a single strain on her strings.
"Hello there," he whispered, though he perfectly knew that no amount of noise would disturb her slumber. "And to think I almost missed you."
"That is the creepiest looking thing I have ever seen," Tino said, staring at the marionette in quite a disgusted way as his brother began to gently cradle her. "And believe me, I've had to watch Chopstick Fag eat some crazy merda."
"Well I think she's beautiful," Joe responded, a genuine smile on his face as he turned to Dasein. "How much is she?"
Hastily yet carefully taking the marionette from Joe, the shopkeep gently moved the strands of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes before stroking her hair and handing her back to the other male.
"Now, I would usually expect at least a couple of hundred clintz for her. I have to make a profit, you know," Dasein began to explain, managing to keep both his words and demeanour calm and collected. "But because it's you, and I'm honestly scared as kacke about what your brother and his friends would do to my business, you can just take her. I can already see that you're going to look after her like she was a little sister."
"Now that's very kind of you," Joe said, flashing him a genuinely grateful smile. "But I wouldn't feel right having this pretty little thing for nothing. Unless..."
Reaching into the pocket of his long, somewhat shabby coat, he pulled out what looked like two stubs of card; placing them in Dasein's hand, they soon revealed to be rather priceless in themselves.
"These...these are tickets for the big Freaks anniversary performance," Dasein gasped, his glances constantly switching between the performer and said tickets. "But these are sold out! If I remember correctly, they ran out before they went through all the advanced bookings on the list."
"Every performer gets four tickets for those special people," Joe began to explain, still gently holding the marionette in his arms. "I figure it's only fair to let you and your lovely wife see what I have planned for the pretty young thing. Do we have a deal?"
"J...Ja! Of course!" Dasein said, nodding in slight excitement.
"Yeah, give the brothers' tickets away, why don't you," Tino muttered, his words almost coming out as a snarl. "Frickin' evil plastic, only letting one brother see the show."
"You know, her original owner named her Madison," Dasein began to explain, putting the ticket in his back pocket before there was any chance for it to be snatched back. "Because she was made for his son. Unfortunately he thought her too scary and I found her gathering dust in the attic when I bought the house recently. To say she's really old, her condition is really good."
"Smart kid," Tino said, raising an eyebrow. "She does look scary as all hell. Also looks like she was made to be alone."
"Made alone...Madelone!" Joe pondered, carefully hitching her up in his arms. "Tino, you're a genius."
"And you're an idiota," he immediately retorted, barely skipping a beat as he gave his brother a long, irritated stare; then noticing him begin to leave, his irritated expression seemed to stayed except for a split second when the brothers bid farewell to Dasein.
"Thanks again, Dasein!"
"No problem, Joe, danke for the tickets!"
"Catch you later, Dasein! I'll be seeing you in three days and you know why."
"Wouldn't want it any other way. Auf Wiedersehen, Tino."
At any other time, their exit through the shop door would have immediately been followed by their footsteps in the direction of either Borgia's or the Freaks' circus tent. However, the older Martinet seemed to have kept himself infront of the shop, as if he'd noticed something rather important; not as much something important on closer inspection, but something certainly interesting.
"Hey, look at this," Joe said, pointing at the poster just outside the curiosity shop. "That famous opera singer is coming to Clint City. You know, Bianca, the one you've always had a thing for."
"Rather her than that filthy gypsy."
"Esmeralda's just a friend, Tino," the older male retorted, quickly directing his rather embarrassed stare to the ground; the last thing he needed was for his scarlet face to give his younger brother any more ammunition, yet it seemed that the only ammunition he was keen on using was that regarding Madelone.
"Piece of advice, Joe. Don't go past the Sentinel or else they'll think you're only into a certain kind of woman, all plastic and...ugh."
With those words, the younger Martinet began to make his way down the pavement; not the most unusual action in the world, but his older brother couldn't help noticing that it was the opposite way from their usual journey.
"Tino, where are you-"
"I hope you remember your way back to the tent, Joe," he interrupted, raising his hand in a rather dismissive wave. "Because I sure as hell ain't being around that frickin' plastic anymore than I need to!"