Tim walks outside of his wonderous idea for a general store and smiles. He runs a tool worn hand over his scratchy, greying beard. Mary Jo walks outside, teasing her bleach blonde hair and basically getting ready for work.
"You know, these weird fucking hours really puts a damper on my social life," she snarls before she heads back inside. Tim casts a gaze to her as she enters the store and rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, you're social life is drunken, passed out on the floor of th Hilt," he whispers under his breath. "Too busy with tom, Dick, and Harry to take care of your kid..."
He stops himself from ranting. He pulls his wallet from his pocket and opens it. In a clear, plastic holder is a picture of a pretty little girl with green eyes and golden brown hair. She's got a big snaggle tooth grin and couldn't be a day over 6. He runs his thumb over the picture and smiles lightly before replacing it in his back pocket.
"Lou!" he calls of a very thin man with ragged blonde hair cut into a mullet. "Put some cat litter on the oil over there. Its time to get to work."

Early in the morning a car will roll up. Its nothing flashy, could even be described as a POS. Its a monstrous buick easily 20 years old. The man who steps out doesnt fit with the car...

Blue doesnt do subtle. Even after a grand escape from the Monolith he trusts his abilities more than natural camoflauge. His dusty motorcycle boots have dirty orange cargo pants tucked into them. His belt is large and the buckle has a flask built in. He isnt wearing a shirt, its more of an open white vest with a fake fur collar and a large grinning deaths head on the back.

His shaved head still has little bloodied spots where electrodes were attached... his chest is both extensively tattooed and extensively bruised like he took one hell of a beating recently.

Blue walks right into the gunstore with a roll of cash in hand. Sure some of the fifties might have bloodspatter on them, but cash is cash.

Tim watches the man enter the building as cigar smoke filters through his yellowing teeth. He spits on the ground before tossing the swischer sweet in the sand filled ashtray, and head inside.
Blue will have to walk through the convience and tackle shop before entering the bunker type gun store. Tim walks behind him, looking over his outlandish gear and his many tattoos. He's tempted to ask him out of what warehouse does his sell drugs or pimp whores. He takes his time walking around the counter. Taking off his cap and hanging it on a hook screwed into the wall. He rubs a hand over his head before looking to the young man.
"What can I do for you?" he inquires. His voice is smooth, yet deep and rough from cigarettes and various tobacco products.

'I need some new tools, and none of that pussy shit either. The real hardware my man.'

Blue grins perfect teeth past a split lip. He slides his faintly purple aviators to the top of his head to get a look at the goods. He approaches a pistol case pointing at a pair of Sigs.

'You got those in forty cal and anything other than black metal?.. I like my babies shiny.'

Tim looks Blue over again, taking his time to move over to the case.
"Yeah, I got 40 cal," he grunts. "But if you want 'shiney' I'll have to look in storage. Those have never been used."
Blue might notice a sign. It'll read, "Yes, we do have silver."
The sign sits a top a glass display glass of various hunting and untility knives. Tim stands there and actually waits to hear a response from Blue. Maybe he just doesn't want to leave Blue alone. After a second or two, a thin blonde man, dressed in greasy mechanics uniform will wander in. He's rubbing a cloth over an oily car part. Tim looks at the man.
"What do you need Lou?"
The thin blonde man chews his lip before speaking, "I just need to know where the quater eighth wrench is..."
Tim sighs and rubs his temple, "God damn it. Where did you see it last? Can't you see I'm with a customer. Get your head out of your ass, you can see better."
He sends Lou off with a dismissive wave. Lou grumbles and meanders off to do work...supposedly. When Tim isn't looking, Lou is out back with Mary Jo playing pass the dutchie.

Blue keeps quit during the exchange. Its none of his buisness and his head is running through his checklist.

'Alright Timmy my man, ill take two of the shiny forty cals, a lefty and a righty if you got em, ill need six high capacity mags and four boxes of hollow points.'

Blue watches the man to make sure hes being heard.

'And you got anything nice and compact, like one of those lightweight, semi automatic hunting rifles?'

Just in case Tim plans to start asking any stupid questions Blue will sart laying down answers. Benjamin after Benjamin is peeled from the roll and laid down on the counter saying dont ask, just sell...

"Tim, not Timmy," he states quickly before leaving as Blue explains himself. Tim goes into the back storage room and comes back with a large cardboard box. His order inside of it. He places the box on a display case and leaves again. He could give two shits what the fuck this strange man was buying this stuff for. Probably to protect his drugs or some stupid shit like that.
When he returns, he lays out a small selection of light weight semi-auto hunting rifles.
"Which one?"

Blue runs his hand along the counter, settling on a short scout type rifle with a scope. Its bullpup design looks like it was made for triathalon shooters and its .308 hunting round is the perfect choice.

'This will do nicely, ill need a spare mag and two boxes of ammo my good man.'

A quick mental calculation and Blue lays down most of his cash. He came up just perfect, as usual for what he needs. His last tidbits will be a bandoleer for hte rifle and holsters for the pistols.

He slides Tim the cash and hopes this man isnt going to ask for ID...

Tim also fetches the requested ammo and whatever else he desires and places them in the box as well.
"I assume you have a permit at least? Perhapes and ID...but I doubt you're under 21," he says as he clears his throat. He glances up and sees Mary Jo peeking in. She's smiling like a god damned idiot.
"Hey!" he snaps at her. "Don't you have something you need to be doing?"
She smiles a nearly toothless grin. The only remaining teeth she have are her canines and most of her molars. Her front teeth are gone like someone kicked her in her teeth some years ago. She steps down into the bunker and smiles...charmingly to Blue.
"Nope," she purrs. "I'm free, completely free."
"And loose, go to work!" Tim demands. Mary Jo scowls at him, but gives Blue a flirty finger wave as she leaves.
"Stupid bitch," Tim mutters under his breath. He looks at Blue.

'They all are my man.' Blue agrees with Tim.

He suppresses a shiver as Mary-jo wanders off. Praying to whatever god will listen that she isnt hanging out by his car when he goes to leave.

'I have a Class A permit. Used to be a Marine.' Blue lies. Not about the permit, but about the military service part...

'I aint got it on me though, but you can look me up in the states database if you like.'

"Not all of them are," he states simply. "And being a marine is all fine and wonderful, but I'm going to have to see that permit before..."
And Mary Jo wanders back in. A flirty, toothless smile given to Blue. In her hands are a fist full of bills. Not the kind you want, but the power bill, the property bill and several hospital bills. She hands them to Tim. Tim looks at the envelopes and then to the cash sitting on his counter. He runs a hand over his beard absently.
"I'll look you up later," he says. "But, if it ain't there. I'm calling the authorities boy."
Did he just call Blue a boy? Oh no he didn't! Mary Jo is suddenly standing very close to Blue, still smiling.
"You know, I've read he kama sutra. I know many ancient secrets," she coos. Tim rolls his eyes.
"Are those ancient secrets to jump on any swinging dick that walks your way Mary Jo?"
She scowls and purses her lips. She pushes past Blue looking Tim in his eyes.
"Listen here you shirivled up redneck fuck..."
"You're fired," he snaps, shutting her up. "If you still want a job. You'll shut up and return to your counter."
Mary Jo needs this job, she's got babies to feed. She flips him off and storms out. He sighs and looks to Blue.

Tim can call blue baby for all he cares, as long as he leaves with those guns.

'Hey man i wouldnt expect anything less. Last thing we need is a bunch of ex-cons or illegal immigrants running around with good american hardware.'

Blue shivers at Mary-Jos words. That'll give a man shrinkage faster than icewater.

'Ill leave you all my information, and some extra cash for your troubles, will that work?'

Blue offers, already snatching up whatever writing utensil he can find to write down a slick Alias and a random address he remembers around town.

Tim imagines that the information will be fake. he really just wants the money and for this...person to leave.
"That'll be fine," he states simply. "If you want to avoid Mary Ho...I mean Jo, you can take the side exit."
He thumbs toward the swing glass door.

Blue looks up at Tim like he just said all the guns were free.

'Oh god, thank you so much...'

Blue will snatch up the box with his order and head out the side door back to his car.

If Tim actually looks up the information the name is good. Robert Neville of the united states marines just recently returned from his tour in iraq and will be soon serving as an airmarshal, a fine upstading citizen if there ever was one.

The address will lead to a rented mail drop in an apartment complex that hasnt been picked up for three months.

He isn't going to check, he just wants the freaks money and for him to leave. He watches Blue leave and smirks. Mary Jo peeks back in to see Blue leaving. She frowns and returns to her place in a huff.