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Boondock Saints: untitled
Originally posted here.
untitled
Boondock Saints. Connor, Murphy. PG.
Someone's forgotten something.
The feel of cold gunmetal as they recite the Lord's Prayer, and then the kickback and the feel of warm gunmetal. And Murphy discovering he's forgotten to bring pennies.
"Pennies are fucking useless!" he protests.
"No, not anymore, we need pennies now!" says Connor.
"All right, so do YOU have any pennies?"
Connor quickly checks his wallet.
"Well?" Murphy demands.
"Fuck off."
They both look at the consiglieri they've just dispatched, the cream carpeting around his head bright crimson, giving the impression of a halo. "Maybe," Murphy ventures, "he's got some."
He does.
untitled
Boondock Saints. Connor, Murphy. PG.
Someone's forgotten something.
The feel of cold gunmetal as they recite the Lord's Prayer, and then the kickback and the feel of warm gunmetal. And Murphy discovering he's forgotten to bring pennies.
"Pennies are fucking useless!" he protests.
"No, not anymore, we need pennies now!" says Connor.
"All right, so do YOU have any pennies?"
Connor quickly checks his wallet.
"Well?" Murphy demands.
"Fuck off."
They both look at the consiglieri they've just dispatched, the cream carpeting around his head bright crimson, giving the impression of a halo. "Maybe," Murphy ventures, "he's got some."
He does.