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“You stupid jerk-face, shithead.”
“And you’re a fucker,” said Phinks.
“Yeah, I fuck all the time.” Feitan crossed his arms over his chest. “What you point?”
Phinks pouted. And odd look on the 6’2”, powerfully built man. “You know I was after that girl. She was so into me.”
“She prefer my fat cock.”
Phinks scowled. “You didn’t even give me a chance, you little shit.”
Feitan began to haul up his tunic. “Little? I show you how little I am …”
Chrollo appeared as if by magic. He had a beer in one hand and two more by the necks in the other. Fresh out of the ice they sweated in the warmer air. “So how are we doing over here, gentlemen?” he purred, handing out beers.
“Feitan’s a fucker,” Phinks grumbled, taking a swig of much needed alcohol.
Feitan dropped the edge of his tunic and reached for a beer.
“Is this about that girl?” Chrollo asked gently.
Phinks nodded angrily and Feitan grinned.
“He jealous I get pussy.”
“Shut up you dickhead!”
Chrollo made soothing motions with his arms. “Now, now, there will be plenty of other girls … and boys. No need for such colorful language.”