POV: Scott
I'll be the first to admit that not all of my plans are masterpieces.
Don't get me wrong, I genuinely think I did the best I could given the circumstances at the time...
But let's just say my execution leaves a little to be desired sometimes.
And right now, I'm starting to realize that maybe letting one of the biggest smooth-talkers in the X-Men stories know about the possible extinction of both the human and mutant races wasn't exactly my brightest moment.
Meh, future Scott's problem...
Gambit: "I beg your finest fucking pardon?"
Scott: "Long story. The short version and the long version have different prices, just so you know."
He sighs, thinks for a few seconds, and says:
Gambit: "Okay, look, that's way above my pay grade."
Why do I feel a big "but" coming?
Gambit: "But..."
Called it.
Gambit: "I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a..."
Nope, I'm way too drunk to deal with this shit.
Scott: "Yes or no, man? Simple as that."
Gambit: "A very hesitant yes, but a yes. Of course, to pass the message along to someone who can actually afford something like this, I'm gonna need a small... commission."
The Fuck?
I came here to sell you something, and now you want a cut of the deal?!
Slippery bastard!
Scott: "10%."
Gambit: "Come on, I got bills to pay too, and it's not easy to find someone who can afford something like this! 30%."
Scott: "Uh-huh, and I'm the Queen of England! 15%, and that's final."
Gambit: "Seriously, man, I can't walk away from this losing money. I'm putting myself at risk too if things go south! 20%."
Haaa, that's why I hate guys like him.
They talk for a few minutes, and suddenly you start thinking that every piece of bullshit coming out of their mouths sounds reasonable.
And the worst part is, I can't even disagree with the guy.
Finding someone willing to buy what I have is already a huge pain in the ass.
And I'm out of options.
Let's just say living on nothing but alcohol isn't exactly a good idea. My stomach is begging for literally any kind of food right now.
Scott: "Fine. Deal."
He smiles like he just won the lottery...
Which, to be completely honest? Isn't that far from the truth, depending on how much I get paid for the info.
Speaking of which...
Scott: "I don't want to be involved in this, got it? Whoever buys it, you didn't hear this from me. Understand?"
Gambit: "Of course! My lips are sealed, mon ami!"
Huh.
Trusting a complete stranger with information that could completely fuck up your life is definitely a wise decision.
Meh, the shit we do when we're drunk.
Scott: "First things first, the price. Minimum two million. Anything below that is just stupid."
Gambit: "The minimum, of course... And if what you have is really something big? The price only goes up... Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."
Poor buyer.
This guy's gonna squeeze every last cent out of them.
Scott: "Alright, no more bullshit. What do you know about Stryker?"
He shifts uncomfortably.
Apparently, my man William isn't exactly well-liked around these parts...
Gambit: "If it's the same man I'm thinking of, then I can say I know him... Unfortunately."
Yeah. Definitely not well-liked.
Scott: "Then you know he's not exactly a fan of mutants, right?"
Gambit: "That's putting it mildly. Racist would be a better word."
Fair enough.
Scott: "Then listen to this: did you know his son is a mutant too?"
The surprise in his eyes is obvious, which means either:
A) the plot I know about hasn't happened yet.
or
B) the kid doesn't exist in this world.
And honestly? Either one works for me. Because whether he exists or not, once I have the money in my hands, I'm going straight to Hawaii.
Scott: "And he's a very specific kind of mutant, too. A telepath."
Gambit: "Okay, how the hell does that involve the extinction of humanity?"
Scott: "Hold your horses. I'm getting there."
Scott: "I bet you've heard about the machine Professor X uses to amplify his powers, right?"
Gambit: "Well... Let's just say I have."
Huh. Interesting.
I'd be more surprised if he didn't know.
Scott: "Now imagine a telepath with the potential to surpass Professor X using that machine, specifically focusing on frying the brains of every mutant his mind can reach. Which, in this case, would be the entire mutant population."
Gambit looks like he just took a punch to the gut thinking about it, and says:
Gambit: "And how does that involve humanity? Forgive me for asking, but so far, it sounds like only the mutants got dealt a bad hand."
Huh. Look at this poor, sweet summer child...
Scott: "And you'd be right, if the kid were normal, I mean."
Scott: "Not that he is, with the fucking telekinetic powers and all, but I mean in another sense."
Gambit: "Which is?"
Scott: "He's got a few screws loose. Completely traumatized, with absolutely no control over his powers."
Gambit: "Eh..."
Scott: "A simpler comparison would be like trying to kill someone with a sniper, only to accidentally use a nuke instead."
Scott: "The target definitely gets wiped out, but everyone in the city goes with him. Except this is, like, twenty times worse."
And now that I think about it, what a shitty plan, huh? I can figure this out while drunk, so how the hell did the mastermind behind the whole operation miss it?
Marvel bullshit, I guess.
Gambit: "How reliable is this information?"
Scott: "Judging by the way things are going? Pretty damn reliable."
Gambit: "Haaa... I don't know whether I should be happy or sad that I found out about this."
Meh, the X-Men would deal with it anyway.
After all, Cerebro still is Professor X's personal invention. It's kinda hard for something like this to go unnoticed.
So this is a self-solving problem. No harm in making some money off it.
Scott: "So, any questions?"
Gambit: "Plenty. And I'm sure we'll talk about them, but first things first, where do I send the payment once I get it?"
Huh?
Where?
Fuck!
I forgot I don't have a bank account in this world.
Shit.