Daryl was walking down the street looking for potential buyers.

“Hey, you. Stop for a moment.” A voice calls out.

Daryl saw two guys a short distance away.

“Fuck.” Daryl exclaims before putting up his hood. He started walking faster, hoping he would be ignored; trying to hide from their line of sight with the help from the pedestrians walking by.

“I fucking said stop for a moment.” The voice called out again.

Daryl looked back and they had started running. “Fuck.” He exclaims again before booking it as fast as he could.

He ran for a while before a figure blocked his way forward.

“Hold it right there, buddy. We just want to talk.” He says before signaling to the running figures following from behind.

Daryl stops and exhales a breath. “Fuck.” He says.

The two figures catch up and surround Daryl.

The person in front speaks up. “Hey kid, do you know anything about Burnout Water?” He asks.

Daryl looks to the man ahead and gives him a blank look. “What's Burnout Water?” He asks.

“You know, the stuff you've been selling all around town?” The man says with an evil grin.

“Fuck.” Daryl exclaims as a nervous sweat appears on his forehead.

“Look kid, just fess up. We know what's up.” He says.

“Fuck, alright. What do you want to know?” Daryl asks him in a frustrated tone.

“Who's supplying it and who's making this shit up.” The man says, his tone without question.

“Fuck, man. I don't know who makes the stuff. I just sell it and take my cut.” Daryl says, attempting to use his ready-made lie.

“Who's supplying it.” He demands again.

“Fuck man. It's my roommate. But he orders the stuff online. The dudes who made the stuff contacted him first. Anonymously… I think they're just testing the stuff out.” Daryl lies as naturally as he could.

“Where is he? Call him up.” He demands again.

“Fuck.” Daryl says as he takes out his phone and gives Taylor a call and puts it on speakerphone.

Brriiiing

Brriiing

“What?” The voice says from the other side.

“We got caught bro. They want to know where this stuff is coming from.” Daryl says.

“Fuck. Tell them I don't know. They contacted me through some sketchy dark web site.” He says from the phone.

“Just get your ass out here. We're at 7th and 9th. Come quick.” The man demands again.

“Fuck. Am I on speakerphone?” Taylor says in feigned ignorance. “Daryl, you prick.” Taylor says.

“It's going to take a while. I don’t have a car…” Taylor tries to say. Hopefully he could find an excuse to get out of it.

“Fucken' useless. We’ll pick you up. Where are you?” The man says.

“Should I really be telling you where I live…” Taylor says, sounding meek.

“Asshole. We don't want to threaten you, we want to make a business deal. Is that okay? Fuck, just tell us.” The man says.

“24th street. Daryl knows the way.” Taylor says.

“Stay put and wait for us.” The man says.

“Yo, hide the shit. I don't trust these dudes.” Daryl says before hanging up.