Calling the man in the custom-made suit 'upset' is an understatement. His thick, unmaintained brows furrowed as he rests both arms crossed above his tubby belly.

"That should teach you never to steal again!" The gruff man said, his voice raspy from the previous cigarettes. "Teach 'im, lad!" He then cheered.

Adam continued to hit the poor child, his face twisted in rage. Or so it seems. "Give it back, you little thief! I could definitely fuck you up. I hope you like hospital food-!" He growled; the child's face turning pale with fear- his jet black Mohawk is in total disarray and his face smeared with asphalt. Blood dripped down his nose, and the young boy used his grubby hands to wipe it away, his eyes still glancing sideways to avoid Adam's menacing scowl.

He finally stopped, grabbing the child by his collar and only releasing when he handed over a chunky Blackberry phone. Adam puffed, grabbing the device and handing it over to the gentleman with a tired smile.

"Here you go, sir. I hope it's in alright condition," Adam spoke. The man inspected it in his wrinkled palm before pocketing it and pulling Adam into a fatherly hug.

"Thank you! You wouldn't believe how many important contacts I would've lost if this rascal succeeded with his heist." The man barked, mouth watering with disgust. "What's your name, filthy criminal? I'll make sure every police man and their dogs have it memorized."

The boy stuttered, but upon looking at Adam's intimidating glare, he finally coughed up his name. "I-Isaiah, sir. Isaiah Wellington. Please don't rat me out to the police-" The boy begged.

"You stole from a very nice man and you deserve to go to juvie. Sir, I don't believe you need to dwell in this any longer; I'll call the cops for you. This rat could stay in my studio until they come- Do have a nice day." Adam smiled, grabbing the boy who appeared no older than fourteen by the nape to head inside his workshop.

"The world needs more men like you, Adam." He smiled, giving the blue-haired man a pat on the back before leaving.

------x

"Isaiah motherfucking Wellington? Like the steak, Wellington?! What kind of gay-ass name is that?" Adam bursts into laughter once they're hidden behind the closed door and curtains of his tattoo studio. "Seriously, I thought you could make up better fake names than that when you chose the name Guy Merlin for yourself." Adam continued, throwing over an ice pack from his mini-fridge for the boy's bruised cheek. "Guy Merlin is mad sick, you see? Shit be glowing. Isaiah Wellington sounds like a Christian School dropout who thinks weed is some sort of 'dope'. Shame."

"Fuck you," he mumbled, Merlin catching it mid-air just to throw it back at Adam, hitting his collarbone. "You didn't have to mess up my Mohawk, limpdick. Any idea how long this shit takes me to sculpt?".

Adam winced, though exaggerating the 'pain' he felt. "Pretty fucking long- Ask anyone you make wait half an hour just so they could piss every morning. "

The older male retrieved the melting pack from the floor so he could hand it over to the bruised youth. The kid pressed it on the purple area of his face, shuddering as the cold, plastic-y surface hit his skin.

"Anyway, sorry I didn't get his wallet. I swear to fuck; his phone is so thick I thought it was a full wallet." Guy Merlin groaned, falling back on the bean bag chair. "My hair is dead and for what?" The tween rolled flat on his belly, face buried in the cushion so the expression of dismay is kept to himself. 

So suddenly Merlin felt something heavy thrown on to his spine.

"How about for a thousand? Cash?" Adam spoke, chuckling in between words. "He has- well, had- two thousand and you get 50% for getting beaten up. Go buy yourself a lifetime supply of girl hair products, dimwit. Stop sulking, you're making the whole street depressed."

His face lit up, though it's impossible to see under all those cushion. "You swine-" He gasped in delight, feeling the leather wallet on his back with grubby hands. Merlin grabbed it, ducked his head up and checked for his part. "You fucking swine-". The boy laughed, pocketing his share before he stood upright, tossing the wallet up and then catching it; repeat. "The world do need more men like you-" He continued, wheezing gleefully as he quoted the man they stole from for added irony.

In time for the celebration, Jimmy walked in with a brow raised.

"Hey, 10:30 is at it again. I think she's reading Great Expectations or sumthin'. She left like two hours ago, 10:14. Kinda in hurry- Now where's my fifty?" He delivered with a flat tone.

Adam made a 'pssht' sound, eyeing the boy skeptically. "Where your dad is; up your ass. Why do I suddenly owe you fifty? More importantly, how does anyone go from Discworld to Great Expectations?".

Jimmy jeered, the jabbing insult seemingly taking little effect.

"Wow, Adam, you really haven't read Discworld. It's confusing- I read a few pages in the library-, she probably needed a break from it." Jimmy uttered with great confidence as he leaned against the wall. "Anyone would. Like I swear the authors were on something when they wrote that."

Merlin raised a brow. "Hey Adam, call the fucking Priest; I think Jiminy's possessed. The hell you doin' in the library? And readin' up a book, no less." The older boy stood up, walking over to Jimmy and smearing the asphalt from his cheeks on to Jimmy's forehead; two lines resembling a cross. "You know what, the Priests wont be here in time. Adam, mumble some 'panthera tigris tigris' shit or some Latin like that."

The boy looked at himself on a nearby mirror, blue eyes dull.

"You done? That's an upside down cross, smartass. It's satanic- crack a book for fuck's sake." He cussed before returning his gaze to Adam who watched with an amused grin.

"Anyway, I followed her to a library. Well, I didn't know she was headed for the library, but I chased the cab until they stopped at that one building with the mean-ass librarian. I learned his name is Fabian, by the way. I think she works there because he was yappin' 'bout how she's late three times or something." Done with his story, Jimmy bored-sighed. "So, fifty."

"Jesus, Jimbo. That's some stalker shit right there." Merlin spoke, even surprised at the lengths his friend is willing to take. "Adam, cough up the fifty."

Adam sighed, finally handing over fifty dollars that Jimmy gratefully pocketed. "I swear; you two are robbing me."

Merlin scoffed arrogantly, cocking his head. "Rather good, aint we?" He asked rhetorically before he slapped palms with Jimmy.

------x

Fabian was right, third time really is a charm.

He has to be, since it would've needed some kind of spell for her to lash out in the very place she wholeheartedly thought of as sacred.

So many colorful insults were thrown at the old man when he said those words; 'Fired'. She never thought that 'Ms.Lindale' and 'fired' would be spoken in the same breath, but apparently she was wrong. Grace went to a shock that easily resembles an extreme case of hysteria- so she's blaming the violent out lash on that for now. She used every known curse words under the sun, then a compelling combination of all those urban vocab once they're all used up- some of which didn't even make sense but she was too upset to care. The girl even thought about throwing the heaviest book she could find at his receding hairline, but countered her hostile thought when she felt a certain disrespect. For the book, of course; Fabian can go crawling to hell wearing Crocs for all she cared.

One thing leads to another and now she's walking home drunk with heels on her hands instead of her feet, three sheets to the wind. She needed to get her mind off it; and if alcohol kills brain cells then she'll need as much of it as she could physically handle. Nothing says 'I'm doing fine unemployed' like binging on alcohol and dwelling on teen-life crisis. Hm, what else could Grace do to further reinforce this statement? Get a tattoo, obviously. She imagined 'Fabian is devilspawn' would look absolutely adorable and inspirational right across her chest.

Not.

Adam was just closing up the studio when the girl of his dreams stumbled for the door. Well, at least it looked like her. The male just had never imagined Angels to smell like... Vodka?

"You-" She spoke before delirious eyes stared at his name tag. "Adam, I would like a tattoo please. Okay, it's going to say 'Fabian is devilspawn bald racist' right on my chest, got it? Big, bold letters." She spoke, the stink of alcohol prevalent in her breath.

Adam just stood there, welcoming the girl in as he shuts the door behind him.

He's very confused if not (more than) just a little bit let down. Comparatively, The Beatles do look shorter in person.

"Uh, you sure you want that? We can take a look at other designs, I actually specialize in geometric design, so-" He offered, not wanting the girl he admired to make a bad tattoo decision. He'd rather not have someone like Grace flaunting a horrible tattoo unironically, it'd be such a waste. Adam walked over to turn on the lights so hopefully she would see the designs he posted on the wall and pick something. Anything, actually- just not the one he knew she'll regret.

Grace placed a finger on his lips to shush the man. "Listen here, Adam. I want a fucking 'Fabian is devilspawn bald racist' tattoo; and I'm getting a 'Fabian is devilspawn bald racist' tattoo." She demanded, taking a clump of cash that sums up to no less than two hundred dollars and throwing it on the cash register. She dropped her heels in the middle of the room before storming off to the studio where Adam usually does his tattoos and occasionally zens out. She swung her bag off of her tired shoulder and sat down on his ink bed.

"Miss- I think you need to realize that tattoos are permanent," He reminded, walking inside the room himself just to found Grace soundly asleep. "Well for the love of fuck-" He uttered, quickly grabbing his phone to contact Jiminy.

"Two-fifty if you come over to Lucky Hobo right now. Bring blankets."

------x
Is there an award for 'Most Use of The Word Fuck With No Clear Context' because I might actually have a chance to win at something.

:""3

Hope you enjoy~

P.S ; Despite this being a mostly comedic story, I need a good plot to work with, too. So do expect some feels peppered in occasionally~!

Thanks for reading and have a nice day~! ^o^