Linda sighed, running a hand through her hair. Turning around, she wondered, "can I ask a question?"
"Shoot."
"Why, Jimmy, why? Why- why would you do this?"
"I don't know-"
"That's not an answer! How come I'm the only one out of three kids who turned out normal, huh? Wendy got married the second she turned eighteen, and flew out to California. You know the only things I've gotten from her since then is birthday and Christmas cards, and lingerie with notes saying I don't get enough action. Well, lemme tell you something, mister. That's a blatant lie-"
"Linda, I really don't wanna hear about your sex life."
"Why'd you do it, Jimmy? Why? I mean, Danny's your best friend, he hung out with the motley crew! Why isn't he like this?"
"A: his father, mother, and grandpa would've kicked his butt from here to Zimbabwe. And two: he was way too busy falling over you."
"So... you took drugs because your best friend started dating me? That's idiotic! That's like somebody cheating their whole life because they were grounded when they were seven!"
Jimmy wrinkled his nose. "What?"
"Exactly! It doesn't make sense! And all you ever come around for is money. Don't you know we need all the money we can get? We're practically broke, and you have the nerve to come here and say 'I need a thousand bucks'. We don't have a thousand bucks! We don't even have five hundred bucks!"
"Can't you loan me the money?"
"Oh, yeah, right. Loan you five hundred bucks, pull double shifts for three months, and listen to you say, 'oh, I don't have the money. Can I pay you back in a month?' for eighteen years!"
"Linda, you need to calm down. Why don't you go to the kitchen and take a Midol?"
"Oh, so whenever I show the tiniest bit of anger, I'm on my period?"
"No, that's not-"
"I think you should go." Linda stormed past him and opened the front door.
"But-"
"No. Don't ask for money again. And don't start bribing us, either."
Jimmy frowned, but walked out the door. He knew where he needed to go, he just hoped his friend was still his friend.
"Whaddaya think, kid? Murder?" Detective Paisley asked his new partner, who had just achieved his detective title.
"Twenty bucks says it's suicide." He offered, popping a fry in his mouth.
"Deal. Get ready to shell twenty bucks," Paisley sat down.
"You're gonna be doing all the shelling," he sat down, smiling. He liked the detective bureau so far.
"Danny!" Jimmy yelled, quickly walking towards his brother in law.
"What?" Danny turned around, and, seeing his beatnik brother in law, mumbled, "oh, it's you... if you want money, the answer is no."
"How'd you know I wanted cash?"
"Cause you always want cash."
"Well, hoity-toity."
"So that's where Linda learned it."
"What?" Jimmy sat down in the chair next to Danny's desk.
"It's her new favorite phrase... how much do you need?"
"Uh, fifty thou?"
"Fifty thousand?! That's, like, my entire salary! Why the hell would you need fifty thousand dollars?!"
"I'm in deep, Danny. You gotta help me."
"I can't. We need both our salaries. Sorry. I could loan you fifty bucks, but that's it."
"It's a start..."
"Cash or check?"
"Cash."
"Then you're gonna have to go to Linda."
"What? Why?"
"Do you really expect me to carry around fifty dollars in cash? In New York, much less."
"I can't go to Linda. She's pissed."
"Look, Jimmy, I wish I could help you, but I can't. I gotta get back to work."
"Fine. Let me starve."
"Jimmy, you're not gonna starve. Plus, you can cash a check! So here," Danny opened his drawer, "what am I doing? I don't carry a check book. Ask Linda."
"I told you. She's P.O.ed. Is she pregnant or something?"
"Hopefully pregnant, but with our luck, or something."
Jimmy sighed, "I guess I'll see ya."
"And that was?" Paisley asked.
"My beatnik brother-in-law. He's always strapped for cash."
A/n
Not really a good ending, I know. Just felt like you guys needed a chapter. Hopefully there'll be better ones from here on out
