Rathore flicks through the paper, skimming the story. "I'm not so sure myself. It's not their modus operandi." He looks up at the vendor, now a little interested. "What else are folks saying?"
πππππππ.
Crutchie smiles innocently at the idea of some boss telling him to sell for a higher price. His only boss is himself! And he just got this fella, hook line and sinker.
βYes sir, all the way from Rochester! Folks is sayinβ the MOB kidnapped her!β
Crutchie Morris / rp account
*how much*?!
well . . . alright. ( taking some change from his pocket and handing it over: ) but you should *tell your bosses* that there's *no news* worth thirty--
( reading the headline. ) though perhaps i spoke too soon. a missing heiress, mmm?
πππππππ.
Oh yes sir!
Thatβll be thirty cents, thank you sir.
Crutchie Morris / rp account
If I do, will you stop *shouting*?
πππππππ.
Wonβt anyone buy a paper from a POOR, ORPHAN BOY?
Yeah, thatβs right. That was my line first.
