The plan was simple. FP had thought it over in his mind a dozen times. How hard could it be to pull off? He laid back against his pillows and stared up at the ceiling, replaying the plan over and over in his mind.

Get the drugs.

Transport the drugs.

Hand the drugs over.

It was simple.

During the summer, Sunnyside trailer park was crawling with aimless individuals who had nowhere else to be. FP Jones was no exception. He didn't have a steady income or a social calendar to keep up with. He just went back and forth between his trailer and the Whyte Wyrm. It was just after sundown when he wandered into the trailer park with a carton of beer tucked under one arm, while he jiggled his keys in his opposite hand. He was minding his own business like he usually did, when the sound of a commotion drifted his attention elsewhere. He set the beer down on his front doorstep and wandered behind one of the neighbouring trailers.

Betty Cooper was a scrappy little thing. FP barely knew her other than seeing her loitering around the park every now and then. It was a known fact that the homeless looking girl did, in fact, have a home on the Northside, she just preferred not to reside there. FP couldn't blame the girl for that. It made him feel stuffy just thinking about the kind of people who lived on that side of town.

"Hey Shortstack!" FP called out when he saw what was going on with the girl. A group of young hoodlums each held onto some of Betty's personal belongings. There was no way she could keep up with three of them as they held her things above their heads and moved around taunting her.

The boys turned at the sound of FP's voice. FP walked closer to the scene, giving Betty the once over as if checking to see if she had been hurt. He didn't particularly want to be involved in this, but he knew that it would be a hell of a lot more peaceful for him to drink alone if this little party got shut down.

"Nobody invited you here, old man." One of the boys retorted as he held Betty's phone up over his head.

FP snorted. "Oh is that the best you can come up with? Stop being a dick head and give the girl her shit back." He said in annoyance. He didn't really care what they did, but this was just ruining his night. Betty could probably take care of herself, but he didn't think she should have to.

Betty grabbed her backpack from one of the boys when FP caught him off-guard. She yanked it from him until his grip loosened enough for her to take it. She slung it over her shoulder before leaning up to grab her phone. "Fuck you." She hissed at the boy holding onto her phone.

FP chuckled because he hadn't done anything other than talking to them and they were already folding. "Give the girl her phone back and hop along, go pick on someone your own size." He commented as the taller boy with the phone dropped his hand and shoved Betty's phone against her chest aggressively.

The three boys stalked off into the darkness, muttering promises to get FP back for what he did to them. FP rolled his eyes. He barely said or did anything to anybody. He rarely did. He watched them for a moment before running his fingers through his shaggy unwashed hair. "No need to thank me." He said to the girl.

Betty rolled her eyes. "Thank you? You didn't do anything other than reaffirm the fact that I need a big strong man to come to my rescue." She snapped, eyes giving him the once over for a second, "or at least someone imitating one." she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Wow, okay. Next time I will just keep on walking, leave you to it wonder woman." He said gruffly and turned on his heel to leave. He really hoped his beers hadn't been stolen because of this. She'd owe him a six-pack.

Betty laughed bitterly. "You think you're some kind of hero?" She called out after him. He didn't turn back or acknowledge her again. He stalked off to his trailer, picked up his beers and closed the door behind himself.

He jumped half a foot in the air after he switched the light on and realised he wasn't alone. "Fuck! Penny! Who let you in here?" He questioned. He walked through to set his drinks down on the kitchen table, opposite where she was standing.

"You owe me, remember?" She asked with a smirk.

xxx

It was the following morning when Jughead sat outside the laundry room with his laptop sitting atop of his knees, headphones covering his ears. He didn't notice FP walking over to where he was sitting. FP's boot accidentally knocked the kid's sneaker as he tried to walk past him. The laptop nearly lost balance off of the kid's knee because of it, and Jughead looked up to see who had walked into him. "Mr Jones! Have you thought about my offer?" He asked him, hoping that FP would be interviewed by him for a story he was writing.

FP looked at him with a confused expression. He had no idea what the hell the boy was talking about. "Your offer?" He repeated, smiling as he tried to pretend that he knew what was going on. "Sure kid, I've thought about it. Still don't know my answer, sorry." He said in a fake regretful tone.

Jughead nodded his head, face falling in disappointment. He closed his laptop and stood up. "I mean it doesn't have to take long, just a few questions. I could ask them casually right now as you do your laundry." Jughead offered.

FP frowned for a second because it still didn't sound very familiar. He was probably drunk or high, maybe both, when the kid asked him about this. "Sure, kid." He shrugged before he walked inside and headed over to one of the machines. He unloaded one of them and dropped all of the wet clothes onto the floor.

Jughead watched his actions but didn't condemn him for it. He opened his laptop and set it down on one of the other machines. FP loaded up his washer and closed the lid. He fiddled with the buttons and switches until it started humming.

"Okay, the first question," Jughead said timidly. "How did you become a drug dealer?" He asked, looking up at FP as he waited for a response.

"I'm not, I'm not a drug dealer," FP told him as he placed his hand on his own chest as if he were offended by that very notion.

"Sorry, I thought- I mean I've seen you dealing.." Jughead told him, feeling embarrassed that he had gotten it wrong. The very concept for his character was based entirely on the idea of FP being a drug dealer.

"Well, no. I mean I have dealt before." FP backtracked with a nod. "It's just not my occupation. Okay?"

Jughead nodded his head and gave him a small smile. "So, how did you get into it?" He asked expectantly.

FP snorted. "Mind your own business." He told him.

Jughead let out a low whistle. This wasn't going the way he had envisioned it to.

FP let out a sigh and for whatever unknown reason he felt like taking pity on the kid. He turned back around and folded his arms over his chest. "It all started when I met this woman in a bar..." He said before diving into the whole Penny situation, including the threats she had made the night before. He owed her big time, apparently. He just didn't know if risking his life was worth it. He would die either way, better at the hands of a blonde druglord than in a Mexican prison going down for twenty to life.

That was a lot to process for Jughead. He went to write some of it down but FP stopped him. "Whoa, whoa, no. You're not using my life for your fan fiction." He told him, holding onto the boy's arm.

Jughead looked at him with a frown. This entire exchange had been so weird to him. First, the man seemed confused by this entire interview and now after actually sharing something he was taking it back.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A woman exclaimed as she walked into the laundry room with an empty basket. "You put all of my shit on the ground, you piece of shit." She growled at FP in particular.

FP placed his hands up in defence. "It was like that when I got here." He lied to her, feigning his innocence.

Alice rolled her eyes and went to pick up all of her clothes. Most of which needed to be rewashed because of what FP had done to her load. "I'm sure you had nothing to do with it." She said sarcastically as she furiously shoved each and every item of clothing she owned, into her washing basket. She started muttering curses and unkind remarks about the man who was standing there lying his ass off. She couldn't stand him, and this only gave her more reasons to dislike him.

FP looked across at Jughead and pressed a finger to his lips as if asking for his silence on the matter. "Come on Alice, it's not like you have that much material to wash anyway." He pointed out. "I mean it's not like you have to iron a uniform or anything, just run your work panties under the shower, they'll be good as new by morning."

Alice's jaw stiffened at his words, she looked across at Jughead who would be a witness if she did anything illegal. She didn't lay a finger on the man, instead, she aggressively picked up her laundry basket, flashing him dirty looks in the process. She made it to the door before turning back to have her say. "You're going to die all alone in that flee ridden trailer of yours after drowning in your own puke. You don't get to lecture me on how I live my life." She told him before she went off in a huff.

FP walked to the door and stood pressed against the doorframe. He watched his stripper neighbour try to walk away as fast as she could on the dirt. It made him laugh a little to himself. She was a crazy bitch, but she was a hot one.

"Hey kid, you want to go and get a burger?" He asked when he turned to go back inside.

xxx

Jughead was more than thrilled about sitting in the diner eating a burger with the one person who actually gave him the time of day. His mother was never around, he didn't know who his father was and it wasn't like he had any friends. FP was all he had, and he hardly even had that. The two talked some more about FP's Penny dilemma until FP announced he had to go. The pair both slid out of the booth and headed out of the building together.

"Oh great, tourists. Nobody should ever want to spend vacation time in Riverdale, even just to pass through." He commented in disgust after looking across at the motorhome which was parked out front of Pop's. He shrugged it off though and started walking in the other direction.

"FP?" Jughead called after him. When the man didn't turn around he rushed to keep up with him instead. When he caught FP he slowed down and walked next to him. "The motorhome, you could drive it through the border, like many other families do on vacation." He pointed out.

FP turned toward the kid as he thought it over. "Yeah other families do that, but here's the thing kid, in case you haven't noticed I'm not a fucking family. I work alone, by choice."

Jughead nodded his head and looked down at the ground in front of them. "I mean you don't have to work alone. I could go with you, father-son bonding trip." He suggested.

"Good one." FP laughed, thinking he was joking.

Jughead frowned at him. "I'm serious. If you want to be inconspicuous you need to blend in. A single guy like you in an RV, you'll look like Walter White, but with a family, nobody would think twice."

FP nodded his head. "Yeah, well where am I going to get one of those?"