12-23-2015, 10:55 PM
"THE SHIT?! BACK THE FUCK OFF ME BEFORE I--"
But before he could say anything else, McArthur was overpowered and lifted up by the armpits and legs, carried outside, and tossed onto the curb. He tried to rush back in there, but the door locked with a click, and that tool of a landlord didn't yield to his angry pounding and insistence to be let back inside. A moment later, the door opened to let a couple boxes of his belongings be thrown to his feet. Not his mattress, not his safety deposit. Just his police gear, his clothes, and a few things they couldn't sell back that were crammed into old shipping boxes.
He thought of how many different ways he could gut and dismember his landlord before trying to shove his way back in, but all he got was the Beef Brigade forcing him back and the blowhard himself saying his piece: "No one's putting up with your shit anymore! I can't keep people from leaving, and I can't get anyone new to come in! You're bad for business!" And then the front door to the building was slammed right in front of his face.
McArthur nearly wanted to kick down the door like he were raiding the place for drugs. "I KEPT YOU SHITLORDS SAFE, YOU KNOW?! HOW'S THIS FOR GRATITUDE?!" Just because he searched people's places for suspicious activity and did a bit of profiling, he got evicted?! These people clearly did not care about their own safety.
He put a hand on his stomach that he tried to forget was growing. "Wait until the gang fights start around here; we'll see who's really bad for business, then!" He nursed the bruise on his butt and trudged to the station. He had to put in a transfer to a place that didn't know him, and then he needed to...go to the library. It was the only place with Internet where people wouldn't start shit with him for doing his job. McArthur had some apartment hunting to do.
But before he could say anything else, McArthur was overpowered and lifted up by the armpits and legs, carried outside, and tossed onto the curb. He tried to rush back in there, but the door locked with a click, and that tool of a landlord didn't yield to his angry pounding and insistence to be let back inside. A moment later, the door opened to let a couple boxes of his belongings be thrown to his feet. Not his mattress, not his safety deposit. Just his police gear, his clothes, and a few things they couldn't sell back that were crammed into old shipping boxes.
He thought of how many different ways he could gut and dismember his landlord before trying to shove his way back in, but all he got was the Beef Brigade forcing him back and the blowhard himself saying his piece: "No one's putting up with your shit anymore! I can't keep people from leaving, and I can't get anyone new to come in! You're bad for business!" And then the front door to the building was slammed right in front of his face.
McArthur nearly wanted to kick down the door like he were raiding the place for drugs. "I KEPT YOU SHITLORDS SAFE, YOU KNOW?! HOW'S THIS FOR GRATITUDE?!" Just because he searched people's places for suspicious activity and did a bit of profiling, he got evicted?! These people clearly did not care about their own safety.
He put a hand on his stomach that he tried to forget was growing. "Wait until the gang fights start around here; we'll see who's really bad for business, then!" He nursed the bruise on his butt and trudged to the station. He had to put in a transfer to a place that didn't know him, and then he needed to...go to the library. It was the only place with Internet where people wouldn't start shit with him for doing his job. McArthur had some apartment hunting to do.