"Oh, look at you, bruv!" CQ hooted. "You got planted flat on that sorry ass of yours!"
The crowd spared no humiliation from the thief as he laid down, catching his breath. It was clear to me that he understood he'd been defeated, but being surrounded by the dipshits of Dame Coccinelle's gotta be even more humbling for a dipshit like him. He brushed CQ off, sitting upright as the crowd continued to laugh uncontrollably, a hundred-fingered hand nudging at the guy's deflated head.
"Told ya." Deuce nudged me. "Nothing to worry abou--"
"Boy, shut the hell up, D." Ty punched him in the shoulder, causing him to wince. "I get the feeling this ain't over yet."
Ty began walking toward the crowd, and Deuce and I instinctually followed. As we approached, Fuckbelt knelt before his grounded opponent, speaking in stark contrast to the mass surrounding the two of them.
"Why do you fight, man?" He spoke underneath the crowd. "What's so special about my laptop that'd make you fight like that?"
"I wanted it." He looked Fuckbelt in the eyes. "That's all."
The guy began to stand, brushing off his clothes and turning away from Fuckbelt. However, he was stopped by CQ, raring to get another piece in.
"Ya talked all that shit about friends, but look at ya." He instigated. "Where's ya cat burglarin' pal about?"
"Fuck off, brother." The guy tried moving past him. "You win, alright?"
Once again, CQ blocked his path, blowing even more insufferable spit into the defeated thief's face. Fuckbelt called out to him before he could throw another jab at his pride.
"Leave the motherfucker alone, man!" Fuckbelt hollered.
"Oh, you fuck off!" CQ responded in kind before returning to his verbal punching bag, whispering in the guy's ear. "Oi, mate. When ya make back 'ome to ya mum, tell 'er the dogs don' line up till ya push the pound."
I could see the agitated snarl begin lining the poor bastard's face as CQ just kept pushing and pushing, as if he'd never get the chance in his life. Though his jabs made absolutely no sense to me, his accent made it seem as if I was just too dumb to understand, and judging by his test subject's reaction, he was feeling the thrusts of that nigh-incoherent blade.
"An' I don' mean in a metaphorical sense!" CQ continued, this time loud and fueling the unending hysterics of the crowd. "I mean in a literally literal sense that even a little puppy dog like yaself could understand!"
By the second, I could see the guy's sense slip away, his anger finally clearly shown on his face. Ty seemed to be sifting even faster through the crowd, and Deuce and I struggled to catch up, though we could see the epicenter so clearly.
As we finally made it through the crowd, we saw the expression on the guy's face completely dissolve, and he grabbed CQ by the collar, destroying his egotistical rant.
"I'll give you one minute, bitch-boy." He whispered before shoving him off and storming through the crowd.
We saw the unbound confidence of CQ completely fade, and he approached Fuckbelt as if he'd been reprimanded by his mom.
"Oi, bruv." His teeth chattered. "Ion like the sound o' that."
"Why?!" Fuckbelt yelled, visibly angry. "The fuck'd he say?!"
"He, uh..." CQ stuttered. "He said we only got one minute till somethin'."
Ty approached the two of them, Deuce and I following suit once again. He was the first to speak, still holding Fuckbelt's laptop under his arm.
"He's prolly going to get his piece." Ty said, clearly annoyed.
"Piece?" CQ questioned. "The fuck you on about? English, bruv."
Deuce chimed in.
"He means a gun, C." He said, watching as CQ's expression went white. "Fuck, man..."
Deuce's confidence was visibly shaken, a rare sight from the usually chipper guy. Fuckbelt grabbed CQ by the collar, but CQ immediately wrestled him off, sending a piercing whistle through the crowd and silencing them immediately.
"Oi!" He screamed. "Code fucking white, mates! Each of ya's, fuck the 'ell off if ya know what's good for ya!"
The crowd paused for a moment, but in the next, they were sprinting outside the nearest exit, flooding the gates like mice. Deuce and Ty began following, but something tugged at me from behind, a nearly tangible thought.
'My shit,' I thought, changing trajectory immediately.
Ty and Deuce turned around, noticing as I sprinted toward the bench I sat at before.
"What the fuck are you doing-- Wheels!" Ty yelled.
I continued to run, paying them no mind. I was confident they could and would get out without me. On the bench, sat my single belonging, tied to the fencing directly behind where I was sitting.
I couldn't leave that bike there: it was way too precious a keepsake to leave there. I'd earned that bike, that very expensive bike, through my own hard work, though I never had a real job of my own. The sense of accomplishment behind paying for something, even if through allowance, was so meaningful to me, since my family has never had more than a few "nice" things. And besides, leaving it there would leave me stranded in the middle of Eastern Dutchman, essentially kissing my life goodbye as well.
Thankfully, the bike seemed exactly the way I'd left. Untouched and unmoved.
I finally made it there, aiming head-first for my bike. I wrestled with the lock, struggling to get it undone, but with the pressure of the situation, my hands kept fumbling over the dial. I tried again and again, but it wouldn't unlock.
After a while, I started to doubt my passcode.
Sweat dripped down my brow, and I could hear my breathing. Panic seeped through the fortitude of my mind as I threw the padlock around, anger seeping through.
"What the fuck, man?!" A familiar voice grunted, not before grabbing hold of the padlock from me. "You've really gotta think before you do some dumbass shit like this!"
Ty pushed me away from the lock, and Deuce, his legs nearly collapsing from underneath him, held the laptop under his shoulder, his eyes prancing from left to right from anxiety.
"Hell yeah, bitch!" He shivered. "You're playing with motherfuckers' lives, Wheels!"
Ty took only a second to undo the lock, before even asking me for the passcode. It was like the dial moved on it's own, telegraphing the code to Ty at his command.
"Done." He said, passing the lock to me. "You bring the bike. I've got my board to carry."
I grabbed the bike and the coil from the padlock. Wrapping it around the middle of the bike, it naturally curled into place, and I was able to begin rolling the bike toward the exit, tailing Ty and Deuce who ran in front of me.
However, once we got to the entrance, we were stopped, a man standing in our path.
"One second, bitch-boys." He said, waving his gun around like an extension of his arm. "Are the dogs home?"