#tocook01.

a brow raises at that, and—because it truly is the worst type of insult, it is—they not-ask with a particularly laid-on russian accent, "so you're saying that i look like a narc."

they don't think they're offended—more so curious, really. not that pinkman's opinion matters. big brother is always watching in and out of the confines of the industrial laundromat—the likes of which they've only seen in america. really, they don't know what's worse—the lack of air conditioning inside or the dry heat outside and the sand that they can practically taste.

it's unfortunate, all of it. the smell of the roach in pinkman's hand is even more unfortunate, but they push themselves off the wall they're propped against to hold out their hand expectantly for it anyway.