Logan:
Who the fuck are you?
Donald Pierce:
You know, you got some buckshot on your door. I hear you was in Phoenix. But then last night some friends of mine in Texas HP called, told me they found three dead cholos on a pullout at fifty-four. Not unusual I know. Except one was missing a hand another one a leg. So they was thinkin' it was either a escaped tiger or Freddy Krueger. But not one of them could drive: one being fictional the other one extinct. And since the wheel lugs they found belonged to a twenty-two Chrysler... Well, this is a twenty-two Chrysler.
[pauses for a moment]
Donald Pierce:
She found you yet? Gabriela?
[leans closer to Logan]
Donald Pierce:
See... I'm not looking for you Wolvie. Well, I'm really looking for someone who's looking for you. She took somethin' of mine when I wasn't lookin'. Something for which I'm responsible. Mexican lady. Has her sights on you now. Doesn't ring any bells?
Logan:
I don't know any Gabriela, so get the fuck out of my car.
Donald Pierce:
[offended]
Ya know...
[leans even closer to Logan]
Donald Pierce:
I know whatchu hiding amigo. The old cueball south of the border.
Logan:
What do you want?
Donald Pierce:
A little co-operation.
[hands Logan a business card, then throws it to Logan when he doesn't take it]
Donald Pierce:
I'm a fan, by the way.
[exits the car]
Logan:
[grabs the business card and finds out who Donald is]
Fuck, fuck!
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:11
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