2: EASY MONEY

[royalpassport]

I have a favor to ask, if anyone has the time and inclination. [ Actually. Wait. He wants this done ASAP, so: ] Less a favor, actually, and more an odd job. I'll pay.

[ He could blame his habit of flinging money around like a big spender on his (fake, curse) memories convincing him he comes from a wealthy family, but the truth is... he's always been pretty bad with money. ]

Comments

[onteamdyson]

I'll send my assistant over. He's really good at lifting things.

[And she'll probably go with him. Not to help, just to watch and collect the money.]

Jefferson! Motels are for crack addicts and people on the run from the law! I might not remember fuck all but I'm pretty sure you are neither of those things!

[...........Or he could be both. How well does she even really know the tea man!?]

[royalpassport]

[ Pauuuuse. ] You have an assistant?

[ WHAT DO YOU EVEN DO FOR A LIVING? ]

And yet that's preferable to what I was living with. [ He's sure of it, though he might sound... a tad dubious. ] It's only a temporary measure.

[onteamdyson]

Totes. Why else would I have gotten married?

[No, seriously, someone please tell her because she doesn't understand how the super hot, super smart, bad-joke-telling side of beef ended up putting a ring on her hot mess of a self.

Also the answer to that question is complicated, Jefferson, you don't even wanna know what she does for a living.]

Shit, dude. That's fucked up. Okay. Gimme your deets and I'll get the muscle. Don't worry about a thing.

[royalpassport]

[ Married??? He takes a moment to absorb that, then responds in an amused tone: ] So you are married. I was right.

[ Is it fucked up? He's hardly a good judge of that. There's a moment where Jefferson wonders if he just has a really melodramatic way of speaking, making things sound worse than they might actually be...

Nah. ]

Thanks. [ AND NOW HE'LL REGALE YOU WITH RELEVANT ADDRESSES. ]