The meeting with the Swede was at the abandoned downtown mall Gary had invested in. The one where the bomb went off. Because that’s where the Swede and his band of violent magic lunatics squat.
I’m no prima donna, I used to live in places like that. But I tell you, it was fucking rough. I’ve traveled all across this land and I’ve seen a lot of dead and decaying downtown areas, but this looked like a warzone. Probably because the guy we were going to meet set off a fucking bomb there.
I was hating the idea more and more when Gary turns to me and says that he never met with these guys before without “a couple bodyguards” and that I should “keep an eye out”. Are you fucking kidding me?!
The Swede isn’t actually that intimidating looking. Although maybe I just think that because he looks like the priest at a church one of my foster families took me to a few times. He looked kind of like an ugly skinny Russel Crowe with dandruff and overly large hands. His boots didn’t match. He had a chain around his neck. And I don’t mean a necklace, I mean an actual piece of chain. Okay in wrestling, super weird in the real world.
While he didn’t look like much, the half dozen other Satanic looking Proud Boys knock offs provided plenty of menace. My plan for “keeping an eye out” was to run for my life and leave Gary to die if anything happened. I’m trying to help the guy but I’m not about to get killed for him. Not like this.
Nothing happened though. When Gary said he was willing to trade the magic blob for help with a spell, ugly skinny RC said something about how he knew that was going to happen because of trees or the wind or some shit.
After the deal was struck, we went back to Gary’s and sat around his pool crushing Mai Tais and going round and round with me saying this was a terrible idea and Gary saying there was no other way. I asked him how we were going to get into Mexico with these degenerates and he said that it wouldn’t be a problem.