Truly bleak shit.
I think there was *some* buy in - at one point they were claiming that the Rez had requested specific items and they’d tailored the Amazon wish list to suit.
But yeah, they weren’t invited in, no smiles and thankyous, just one completely disinterested dude supervising them. That’s not going to go down well with the audience, it will be interesting to see what happens with the generosity of donors going forward.
So in the end, this wasn’t about money laundering or drug running or anything exciting like that. It’s Penny trying to get into the business of being a professional charity on other peoples behalf. He’s had a taste of the money that’s out there if the cause is just right, and he wants to expand the reach of rhe Tranch and build up their reputation as do-gooders, not just as a simple charity case themselves..
Better reputation = more income for them and as long as the money passes through their hands, and some necessary expenses can be taken off the top for gas and admin and the like - heck, even wages and pension packages and boardrooms eventually like the big players? A guy can dream.
But that was a rocky start. That burned, the lack of gratitude. The hostility in that fella’s eyes, the embarrassment. Made a loss on this one too, just to keep everything looking clean.
It’s a quiet drive back across the wintery plains. They’re all tired, Penny driving most of it. Time for reflection. How to keep up appearances and pretend that everything went great. But Kevin’s grating voice keeps piping up from the backseat. He won’t stop talking about transformers, and his bolt-on breast ambitions. No grasp of the situation at all, he’s only pissed off that he didn’t get what he wanted for breakfast, and that the cell service has been lousy the whole way.
Penny slips the automatic pistol from the door pocket into his coat. The weight is comforting. At the next rest stop he’ll do it, maybe.
