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He was impatient. Always this crap. The brute set the price, set the time and place, if they didn't agree... fuck em. There were always more bidders, always more buyers. Still, he was entertaining their bullshit. Why? No clue.. maybe he was going soft. Arms crossed and he sighed as he leaned on his propped bike, squinting up at the sky. "This could happen some time today... or not. Your choice douche canoe." Now he was getting pissed. He checked his watch, he had made an appointment, one he really wanted to get started on. "Fuck this, I'm out." Time was already pushing...there was another stop to make before he made it back to his warehouse. Mr. Bike would be there just as he got there at this rate. Leg swung over the beat up Triumph, and the engine roared to life. *npc* Wait! He revved it two more times and started to lift up his foot. *npc* Wait! Foot came down, the shotgun slung on his back spun off and cocked on point. "You fucked the deal. This was not a negotiation. My price stands. Don't call. I'll call you." He fired, but not what they expected. A tire hissed. "Have a great day gentlemen." Shotgun secured, he rode off. They could shoot him and take that fucking ugly thing, not likely. These jerks were newbs. Newbs thought they were badass and try to negotiate. Fuck that shit. He had much more fun to deal with at the moment, and it certainly wasn't these crackerjacks. Plus, he was pissed. He'd be on time back to the warehouse to meet his "partner", but barely.