The Black Mamba || South Park || Mafia AU

CHAPTER 8

Kenny stood in the break room, hunched over looking into the fridge. The door swung open and Eric stormed through. "Hey, boss." A slam of his office door, and still no response.
Kenny grabbed his beer and shut the fridge door, looking at Eric's office. He set his beer down and proceeded. He knocked on the door, but Eric didn't say anything. "Eric? You good?" He asked.
A muffled conversation could be heard on the other side, and Kenny let down his balled up hand. He turned around, and grabbed his beer.
"Hey. Could you transfer me to the boss, please?" Eric asked. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I can't let you do that." A woman said. "It's a family emergency."
"The boss doesn't have any family references here." Eric cursed to himself. "Okay. Thanks." He said. He slammed the phone down and grabbed his coat.

Eric shut his car door, and looked up. Above the doorway, there was a sign that read, "THOMAS ARMS." He proceeded up the steps and entered the building.
Eric rest his hands on the counter and leaned in, looking into the reception office. A girl wheeled toward him. "What can I do for you?" "I need to see the boss." "I'm afraid we can't do that." The woman said. "Just phone him or something it's an emergency."
The woman stared at Eric for a while, and finally gave in. She lifted her hand to the receiver. "Just tell him Cartman's here." He said.
"Hi. Someone named 'Cartman' is here to see you." The woman said. Her face gained a shocked look, and she set down the phone. "He doesn't seem very happy.." "Yeah. I tend to do that."
She giggled, and got up from her chair. From the side of the windows a door opened, and the woman walked out. "It's just down-" "I know. Thank you." Eric said.
Eric continued down the hallway and made a left. He looked to his right as he passed many office doors, none of which was the one he was looking for. He finally met the end of the hallway and entered a corridor with a single door at the end with a blurred glass pane in the center.
Eric knocked on the door, and a deep voice called. "Come in." It said. Eric slowly and quietly opened the door, and put his hands behind his back.
"Sit down." He said. Eric pulled out a chair and sat. The chair turned, and he set down his magazine. He set his feet up on his desk and intertwined his hands.
"What do you want." He said. "Listen. I know we're not really on speaking terms right now, but I need you." He chuckled. "Are we ever?" He asked.
"Scott, please. It's important." "Fine. What do you need?" Scott asked. "You sell guns to a Victor Chaos, right? I'm just assuming since you're the only one in Denver."
Scott shrugged. "What's it to you?" "That guy is gonna kill me." Scott snickered. "What? Why would he kill you?" He said as he smiled. "He wouldn't kill a fly."
Eric screwed up his face. "You see this?" He asked, pointing to his black eye. "Yeah. Let me guess, he did it?" "Yeah. He did. While he held me at gun point. I'm serious, Scott." Eric said. "Alright. And what do you need me for?" He asked.
"I need you to talk to him. Get as much details as possible on what he's doing." Eric said. "You're lucky I know him." Scott said. "'Cause he isn't the kind of guy everyone knows." "And I thank you for that, but I need your help." "Okay. Sure. But you're doing something in return."
Eric sighed. "What." He muttered. Scott let his feet down and stood up. He leaned over the desk and pointed in Eric's face. "You tell me everything. All about you, your friends, and what you've been doing since we talked last." Eric's eyes widened.
"What?" He asked. "You swear." Scott said. Eric looked to his side. "I swear." He said quietly. "Good. Pleasure doing business with you, brother." Eric got up and shook his hand. "You too." He turned and grabbed the doorknob, but before he left, he turned to face Scott. "Thanks, Scott. I really appreciate it." Scott nodded.