Math: The Watermelon Chronicals

001 - The First Equation

Johnny "The Rine" Lancaster was a tough man. He took shit from nobody and when people saw him in the streets, they knew to step out of the way. Even if the person didn't know who he was at all, they wouldn't want to mess with him. He was a rather burly man. Tall and strong, like Tachanka but if he wore black compressor shirts and jeans and jet black hair that was kept in a messy side part.

He was on his way to pick up a shipment around the corner of 44 watermelons. His boss, The Seed, said this was a very important package. The Watermelon Mafia relied heavily on it's arrival. Some client needed it. Johnny didn't know and didn't want to know. He never asked questions. Get out, get the job done, come back, get a cut of the money, continue running the mafia. That was all he needed to do.

Little did he know, at 12:03 pm, he was in for a nasty shock. When he arrived at the agreed drop off location, nobody was there. They were late. Nobody was late for The Rine. While he waited, Johnny pondered whether or not he should kick those fucker's asses or let them be. Of course, he decided to leave them be. Can't be getting on The Seed's bad side. 

It was around 15 minutes later that a disheveled group of men showed up. One was struggling to drag a large burlap sack towards Johnny.

Real discreet, Johnny scoffed.

The man apologised heavily for being late.

"You see, sir," he panted. "We were caught on the way here. The coppers took half of the melons. We were able to save the rest, though."

Johnny growled, "Are you stupid? Do you understand how furious the boss'll be?! I'll be surprised if he lets your asses live after he gets done chewing out mine!"

"I'm s-sorry!" the frail man stuttered. "It's like they knew where our routes were!"

"Ah great," Johnny huffed. "Now you're telling me they now have a path straight to us..."

He picked up the burlap sack of watermelons with ease, making it look like a paperweight. After bidding the men a rude farewell, he traversed the dark alleyways of the city to reach one of the many headquarters the WM planted around the city. This one was a rather lavish apartment suite where The Seed temporarily stayed. Johnny knocked loudly on the door. A very irritated Agent 8 opened the door. Agent 8 was one of the 10 Agents of the WM. Their only equal was Johnny and their only higher up was The Seed himself.

"Must you honestly knock so loud?" Agent 8 grumbled. He had a deep, rumbling voice. Odd for a man who looked like he could cosplay Sebastian Michaelis and completely pull it off. At least he had the accent.

"Whatever you say, clean up duty," Johnny sneered. Agent 8's job was to clean up any incidents and make sure no evidence was left behind. By no means was he a janitor (he hates getting dirty), but he will if he has to and is very good at keeping secrets well... secrets.

Agent 8 rolled his eyes at the monicker, "Oh hush. You have the delivery?"

Johnny winced, "Yeah... half of it."

8 squinted disdainfully, "What... do you mean... 'half of it'?"

"I think it'd be best if we go inside and talk about this."