Hank had been around the block a few times. Needless to say, it didn’t take him long to realize he was in the company of a couple of heroin addicts. Twitching, scratching, irritability – these cats were unstable, to say the least.

Britney was loading the guns. Her hands shaking, she dropped the box of ammo, bullets scattering underneath the seat. She scrambled frantically to retrieve the ammo, hoping Jared wouldn’t lose it. Fortunately, Hank distracted him.

“How long you been usin’?” Hank asked forcefully.

“Mind your own business!” Jared shouted, glancing nervously in the rearview.

“In case you foh-got. You invited me into yo’ bidness. Never mix bidness with pleasyah,” Hank said. “If y’all ain’t straight, you be crackin’ under pressure.”

“Okay, what do you suggest?” Jared said, doggedly.

“No time to get y’all cleaned up. So I suggest you shoot up before we do the job.”

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so?” Britney asked.

“Man with the plan,” Jared mumbled, turning into the parking lot of a Motel 6.