11F042-2 -- the foolish things i do [VOICE]
[There's a thick Southie accent just to say:]
Fahk you, you fahkin' snake. You know who you ah. Fahkin' queehbait.
[A pause, then he resumes with almost no accent.]
Sometimes this place isn't so bad. [He laughs, then coughs.] Fuck. No, I'm fine, guy.
[Clicks off.]
[Added later:]
[There's a short pause, then a sigh.] I spoke too soon.
[Private to Rex]
[Dropping the feigned enthusiasm, he sounds like shit.] You still locked up, kid?
[Private to Parker]
You bored?
[Private to Donny]
Thanks for the help, guy. You interested in hitting the gym with me when I get a little recovered to keep me from completely fuckin' losin' it?
Private to Mal]
I was thinking maybe I could send my warden to grab my hat, if you want.
[Private to Damon]
How you doin', kid?
[Private to John]
I need help.
[Private to Howie]
How you doing, guy?
[Private to Sveta] -- [Added later]
How long's he been gone for?
[Spam for Dick]
[Costigan looked up from his journal, still sprawled on the all too familiar couch where he'd spent possibly the worst week of his life. He was in a pair of jeans and at least had a white t-shirt on this time, medallion dangling around his neck. His warden was over in the kitchenette area, so he didn't turn to look at the guy so much as spoke up to him.] "Damon's gone."
[But feelings weren't something Costigan discussed, so he moved on after a pause.] "We going to talk about the knife at some point?"
Fahk you, you fahkin' snake. You know who you ah. Fahkin' queehbait.
[A pause, then he resumes with almost no accent.]
Sometimes this place isn't so bad. [He laughs, then coughs.] Fuck. No, I'm fine, guy.
[Clicks off.]
[Added later:]
[There's a short pause, then a sigh.] I spoke too soon.
[Private to Rex]
[Dropping the feigned enthusiasm, he sounds like shit.] You still locked up, kid?
[Private to Parker]
You bored?
[Private to Donny]
Thanks for the help, guy. You interested in hitting the gym with me when I get a little recovered to keep me from completely fuckin' losin' it?
Private to Mal]
I was thinking maybe I could send my warden to grab my hat, if you want.
[Private to Damon]
How you doin', kid?
[Private to John]
I need help.
[Private to Howie]
How you doing, guy?
[Private to Sveta] -- [Added later]
How long's he been gone for?
[Spam for Dick]
[Costigan looked up from his journal, still sprawled on the all too familiar couch where he'd spent possibly the worst week of his life. He was in a pair of jeans and at least had a white t-shirt on this time, medallion dangling around his neck. His warden was over in the kitchenette area, so he didn't turn to look at the guy so much as spoke up to him.] "Damon's gone."
[But feelings weren't something Costigan discussed, so he moved on after a pause.] "We going to talk about the knife at some point?"