[Earthquake] ((scene/summary: Wellington))
*It took Wellington most of Saturday to get his bearings and make his way back into the heart of the city. He never thought he'd be free again, so the shock of the change overwhelmed him for the first few hours.
But as night fell and no cops came to him, he began to realize that he had been handed a new life... and Wellington wasn't about to waste that life poor and on the streets. So that night, he wrote down what phone numbers he could remember from the con ring and began making a few calls.
The results were not exactly as good as he had hoped.
Most of the numbers didn't work; were either disconnected or met with hangups. However, one number he dialed gave him some success.*
"Yeah, I remember you. We're still around. Things changed, though."
Wellington: What do you mean by that?
"After you got arrested, there was a raid. I guess the cops have been watchin' us... it was bad. A lot of the best were taken to the slammer, and a bunch more got spooked and quit for good. The rest of us stayed real quiet for awhile. We lost a lot of talent and money that day. We spent years tryin' to get back into the game."
Wellington: *grimaces* A raid...
"Yeah, things just ain't as good anymore."
Wellington: Sounds like you could use my help.
"..."
Wellington: *pauses* ...I still know all the cons.
"How did you get out of prison, anyways? Didn't you kill a cop?"
Wellington: That's...
"Look, if the cops are looking for you, that spells trouble for us if we let you back in."
Wellington: *clenches the phone hard* I'm NOT going back to prison. Do you think I'd allow myself to be found and taken back to that... that trashy low-class place...
"Well... I'll ask the new boss if he'll meet with you tomorrow. We're real short on talent, so if you haven't gotten rusty, he'll probably take you in."
Wellington: I don't get rusty. I'm first rate.
"Just be at the old Hydeout Hotel building tomorrow at 9 AM. If he's interested, he'll be there."
*After securing enough money to buy himself a fashionable new pair of glasses, Wellington spent most of Sunday proving his worth. By the end of the day, he had assisted a team of fellow con artists in amassing over two thousand dollars from unfortunate pedestrians on the streets of downtown L.A. At first he did simple jobs like playing shill, distraction, or lookout; but soon he was leading cons, using lies and sleight of hand to collect cash from the gullible. By Monday, he was a full member of the con ring once more, and was earning a decent cut of the profits.*
But as night fell and no cops came to him, he began to realize that he had been handed a new life... and Wellington wasn't about to waste that life poor and on the streets. So that night, he wrote down what phone numbers he could remember from the con ring and began making a few calls.
The results were not exactly as good as he had hoped.
Most of the numbers didn't work; were either disconnected or met with hangups. However, one number he dialed gave him some success.*
"Yeah, I remember you. We're still around. Things changed, though."
Wellington: What do you mean by that?
"After you got arrested, there was a raid. I guess the cops have been watchin' us... it was bad. A lot of the best were taken to the slammer, and a bunch more got spooked and quit for good. The rest of us stayed real quiet for awhile. We lost a lot of talent and money that day. We spent years tryin' to get back into the game."
Wellington: *grimaces* A raid...
"Yeah, things just ain't as good anymore."
Wellington: Sounds like you could use my help.
"..."
Wellington: *pauses* ...I still know all the cons.
"How did you get out of prison, anyways? Didn't you kill a cop?"
Wellington: That's...
"Look, if the cops are looking for you, that spells trouble for us if we let you back in."
Wellington: *clenches the phone hard* I'm NOT going back to prison. Do you think I'd allow myself to be found and taken back to that... that trashy low-class place...
"Well... I'll ask the new boss if he'll meet with you tomorrow. We're real short on talent, so if you haven't gotten rusty, he'll probably take you in."
Wellington: I don't get rusty. I'm first rate.
"Just be at the old Hydeout Hotel building tomorrow at 9 AM. If he's interested, he'll be there."
*After securing enough money to buy himself a fashionable new pair of glasses, Wellington spent most of Sunday proving his worth. By the end of the day, he had assisted a team of fellow con artists in amassing over two thousand dollars from unfortunate pedestrians on the streets of downtown L.A. At first he did simple jobs like playing shill, distraction, or lookout; but soon he was leading cons, using lies and sleight of hand to collect cash from the gullible. By Monday, he was a full member of the con ring once more, and was earning a decent cut of the profits.*