"Atlas, let's go!"
Boscoe was sitting on the old red velvet couch in the apartment he knew so well. They had spent many nights here trying to win over the hearts and wallets of many a women.
Atlas was going through his daily routine in exactly the same way he did everyday. Wake up. Morning stretches for five minutes. Put on slippers. Start coffee.
Add to list: Get new coffee pot with timer, he thought.
Get newspaper. Take a shower. Put on bath robe. Drink coffee, read newspaper, smoke a joint. Get dressed. Brush teeth exactly one hundred times on top, then bottom. Fix hair with one pump of gel only. Moisturize face and apply chapstick.
His slight form of OCD could not be broken despite the numerous hours of wasted therapy with Dr. Crazy whom he only frequented for her lack of panties and habit of keeping her legs slightly parted. She was as sexy as she was crazy.
As Boscoe patiently waited, watching the attractive woman they had met last night in the pink dress speak of the two men in gray suits who had conned three-thousand dollars from her. He gave a little chuckle, and with a sly grin on his face, remembered the events of the night prior.
It had started in that sleazy dive downtown; the one that smells like cheap liquor, stale cigarrettes and even cheaper women. Why she was there they didn't know. They weren't looking for a con, but when Atlas saw her he just knew; right place, right time.
They pulled what they call "The Rescue". Boscoe got her interested and got her to leave with him out the back. Then he proceeded to start an argument and roughed her up a little when Atlas came by and rescued her. He roughed Boscoe up a little and they exchanged words before taking her to the local diner and then back to his place where the con really began.
They had swindled thousands out of unsuspecting women, but for Atlas this one had been different.
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