Pickles ran a tired hand through his dreads as he walked down into the kitchen fully set on a night cap before heading on to bed. Thinking he was the only one he was taken aback when he was Charles bend over at the waist rummaging through the liquor cabinet. Hips swaying to only a rhythm he could hear and foot tapping, pickles found himself staring a slight longer than necessary before letting Charles know of his presence in the room.

"Ah, Afdensen?"

Charles mumbled a curse when his head hit the shelf above his head and he turned to glare at the band's drummer. "Good evening Pickles. Anything I could help you with?" Pickles nodded and told him to pass him the bottle of Bombay by his hand. Ignoring the look Charles sent at his he took off the cap and took a swig straight out of the bottle. After a while longer he heard Charles let out an annoyed sigh and move deeper into the cabinet.

"actually ya can help me with sumthing. Why is you in our liquor locker?" after extracting himself from the large cabinet he cracked his back before facing Pickles. "I cannot for the live of me find the Louis VII Black Pearl Nathan gave me as a gift." Pickles pierced eyebrows rose up on his head and he saw the reason of his frustration. "That's some expensive shit Nat'an gave ya."

He handed Charles his bottle of gin and encouraged him to take a couple of swigs from it before leading him to a barstool. Charles vaguely remembered sitting down and Pickles sitting across from him with another bottle. They sat in silence drinking before Pickles broke it first.

"Ya'know, brandy is dandy an' all but gin make ya sin."

Wrinkling his nose Charles shook his head' "No, it's wine is fine but liquor is quicker." Pickles waved his hand mumbling about details before taking another drink. They made small talk, mostly about nothing until Charles chuckled into his bottle. Pickles saw in weave in his seat slightly before settling down.

"I think I know what happened to my brandy. 804 took it." Pickles shook his head and decided to humor Charles by asking how he knew.

"Right after my meeting with Dick today he mentioned something about fucking a chicken."

Pickles choked on his gin and sputtered before placing it on the table it seriousness.

"So the three of them walk right up to me, slap my behind, and tell me to 'Keep fucking that chicken' after the meeting was over."

"He fucked a chicken?"

"No, he said 'Keep fucking that chicken' after the deal went through. I asked him what he meant and 212 and 718 said something about keeping up the good work."

"Who is 212, 718, and 804? Those are area codes. That I do know."

Charles told him how they are some of the older, original Klokateer's. "He's apart of a skeleton set. 804, 212, and 718 are the Jack-of-all-trades. They can get away with anything so why get rid of good help. They mostly help with the hiring and screening now." Pickles shook his head and told him to continue. "I thought all the originals had died out. How many are left out of the set of a 1000?" Charles told him a rough estimate of only twenty or so.

They sat in silence and Pickles watched Charles leave, more like stumble out, after finishing half the bottle. Leaving him by himself and a his now wide awake mind alone in the kitchen.

After the next rehearsal a couple of days later Charles heard a light, heavy handed knock at his door before Nathan stepped in staring at him blankly. The stared at each other a smite longer before Charles opened his mouth.

"Nathan-"

"Keep fucking that chicken?"

Charles rested his face in his hands and sighed heavily. "Keep up the good work." Nathan didn't look exactly happy and stared at him longer.

"And the slap on the ass? No one's done that to me since high school." He watched Charles glare up at him between his fingers and saw the fire die instantly to be replaced by defeat.

"Just go with it Nathan. It's Pickles."