[video] a valentines themed promotional video (brought to you by the shameless cast)

[gentrify]

[ Greetings, friends. Remember when Mickey said he was selling guns? Yeah, he's still doing that, but now, with a building and less so out of the trunk of his car, PLUS one (1) actual employee. So here he is, in said building, walls behind him lined with weaponry and sundries. ]

You wanna know what really says "I love you and I give a shit if you get capped on some sketchy gangland corner of Maurtia Falls" for Valentine's Day?

[ wait for iiiiit ]

A gun.

[ Or knife, or machete, or sword. They've started carrying some swords too, because they know some of you are ancient fucks and can't handle the idea of catching up to the rest of the world, so there should be some wall in the background with gear more that speed (the speed of a horse drawn carriage). Anyway, back to his sales pitch. ]

Yeah, I know you're all superheros and shit, but some of you fuckin' suck at it, and some of you got the crap end of it with bullshit powers like, I dunno, talking to squirrels or some Disney princess crap. Is a fucking squirrel gonna keep your girlfriend, boyfriend, side piece, whatever from getting mugged? Hell no. [ This place is ridiculous and he hates it. ] Point is, we got Valentine's Day sales going on over here at Southside M&G Armory, so come by and pick up a piece at discount prices.

[ Mickey's about half way through giving the address for the shop (somewhere in Heropa, handwave, la de da), when the distinct hiss of a spray can coming from somewhere off to the side draws his attention, both his attention and the camera of his phone turning in it's direction. There stands: Carl Gallagher, at the sales counter, spray painting a shotgun pastel pink, with a couple others in red and white and purple lying nearby. It's seasonal, ok? ]

Goddamnit, Gallagher, I told you to do that outside, dumbshit! Do your brain cell murder huffing on your own time, away from my merchan--

[ aaand the video cuts. apparently this ad is over. ]

Comments

private to either/both of them

[devoutish]

Is this being legally done?

[Sup kids, have a Genuine Cockney Gangster who's hoping the answer is yes - not because he has anything against the illegal selling of weapons, but because people openly advertising their illegal gun sales might end up bringing unwanted attention to his illegal gun sales. #priorities.]

private

[gentrify]

You know, when I showed up at the bank to apply for the lease, that was exactly what I told them - I want the building so I can cash out on my illegal guns right in the middle of a military town. Didn't seem like they had any problem with it.

[ That, of course, is sarcasm. Not that he isn't also making illegal gun sales on the side, but that's very, very on the side. Far from the business proper. But the tone drops, and he gives the more honest answer. ] Yeah, man, it's legal, I'm not a moron.

private

[devoutish]

Given the number of morons we've got running around here, mate, it does pay to ask.

[He sounds mollified, though.]

private

[gentrify]

Yeah, okay, fair enough. [ yes, there are plenty of morons here. exhibit A: magnus up there asking if guns can be put in a washing machine. christ, why is this his life? ]

You buying anything or just curious?

private

[devoutish]

Curious. I'd like to keep dumb fucking people from selling weapons on the streets.

[It's technically not a lie! Smart people only, please.]

Nah, I've got a gun already, actually.

[He has like five guns but whatever.]

Older than yours, though. Much older. From home. Funny what they bring through with us, eh?

private

[gentrify]

Usually cops keep dumb fucking people from selling weapons on the streets, but after hearing about the fuckin' joke of a justice system they got for imports here...

[ he's pretty sure anyone could get away with anything here with just a slap on the wrist and a couple months of time out. ]

Any reason you wanna stay old school with it? I mean, I got a friend who carries a sword around, so at least you're doing better than him.

private

[devoutish]

Familiarity and nostalgia.

[Though he has at least learned how to at least shoot some modern guns - they're a lot less likely to be traced back to him than the one he'd come in with.]