Tuckerization reward from the FROZEN DREAMS Kickstarter (there’s more)! #commissionearned
“You’re in my town without asking,” Randy told me. While handing me a healthy knock of almost-guaranteed Kentucky Free State bourbon, so the signals were a little mixed, here. “Why are you in my town?”
“I don’t know. Which hat are you wearing?” I replied. “Tourista’s, the 300’s, or the Crown’s?”
Randy — or Sir Randall Fiebre Stone, depending — rubbed his head and grinned. He didn’t have a hat on, or much hair these days. “Let’s start with the Crown’s. After you finish your bourbon. I don’t drink on this job.”
“All right, Your Honor. What I’m doing ain’t none of the Tourista Municipal Court business, yet. I don’t wanna say not ever, because that’d just be asking for trouble, but the Case I’m on ain’t about Tourista. Not really. It’s just, you know, a locale.”
“Good to hear it, Shamus Vargas.” He mimed taking off a wig. “Now what are you going to tell the Stone, Seat 18C?”
“The 300 representative? The exact same thing as I did the judge, except he can drink on the job.” I poured us both drinks; we clinked glasses.