Thanks a lot to Frank's leg.
This whole mess earned Dexter a total of 66 merit points. Adding the 3 points he got from kicking that old white guy earlier, his total is now 69 merit points.
He's just one point shy of doing a seven-item draw.
On the way back to the hotel, Dexter felt a little bummed, but he didn't dwell on it. A six-item draw was still pretty sweet.
Time to draw!
"Congrats! You won five hundred bucks."
"Congrats! You won twelve hundred bucks."
"Congrats! You won the skill: Basic Firearm Handling (Handguns)."
"Congrats! You won four hundred fifty bucks."
"Congrats! You won a Glock 17 pistol."
"Congrats! You won a pack of cigarettes."
Well, look at that. The standard treasure chests aren't half-bad!
Dexter was genuinely happy with the results, especially the Basic Firearm Handling (Handguns) skill and the Glock 17 that had instantly appeared in his pocket.
He'd been thinking just that morning that he should find a way to get a gun from Mickey.
Now he didn't have to bother!
Dexter immediately focused on integrating the handgun skill. It didn't take long before he completely understood the pistol's mechanics, disassembly, operation, and generally felt like he knew the weapon inside and out.
"Awesome!" Dexter muttered. He reached into his pocket and felt the pistol, a little rush of excitement going through him.
He couldn't help it. In the twenty-eight years he'd been alive, the only gun he'd touched was an antique long-barreled rifle during military training. This was his first time touching a real pistol!
It was a total rush.
---
Beneath the elevated train tracks.
Frank was still lying in the snow, screaming his head off.
Finally, a car drove by. The driver noticed Frank, slammed on the brakes, rolled down the window, checked him out, and then burst into laughter. "Hahahaha! Frank, who busted your leg this time?"
Frank immediately got furious. "Fk you!!"
Everyone in the neighborhood knew what a mess Frank was, and the driver was one of them. Not annoyed in the slightest, he just lit a cigarette and chuckled. "Frank, sounds like losing a leg hasn't slowed you down any. Keep yelling, man. I wanna see how long you can last."
Frank was gritting his teeth in pain. "Motherfker! Are you just gonna watch? Call an ambulance, pronto!"
The driver calmly blew out a puff of smoke and smiled. "Sure, sure. I'll call right now."
With that, the driver pulled out his phone and called a friend. "Hey, you are not gonna believe what just happened. Frank Gallagher's leg got broken. You wanna come check it out?"
Hearing what the driver said, Frank was absolutely stunned. "?????"
Then, Frank started cursing a blue streak again.
While he was still yelling, another car drove by, pulled over, and the people inside joined the crowd enjoying the spectacle.
A few minutes later.
Tony drove by in his patrol car. He spotted Frank and quickly called for an ambulance, then made an eager call to Fiona.
Not long after, since they didn't live too far away, Fiona, despite the late hour, rushed out of the house with Lip, Ian, and the others, running frantically to Frank's side.
Debbie immediately started crying when she saw Frank—her right leg broken, lying in the snow like a filthy old stray dog—and rushed into his arms. "Dad..."
Fiona didn't even talk to Frank; she just asked Tony, who was still waiting there, "What happened? Who did this?"
Tony had already questioned Frank and shook his head apologetically. "Frank didn't see the guy's face. He was wearing a mask. Sounds like he did this on purpose..."
At that moment, Tony's partner, a Black police officer, managed to keep a straight face while stifling a laugh and added, "There are too many potential suspects. It's probably going to be tough to track him down."
Fiona understood that but still looked furious. She asked Tony, "Is he going to be okay?"
Tony shook his head. "I checked him out. The bone is broken, but it's not super serious."
Just as he finished speaking, the Waaah-waaah-waaah of a siren filled the air.
The ambulance arrived.
The EMTs jumped out and quickly loaded Frank onto the stretcher.
Seeing the emergency crew, Frank suddenly got a second wind. He started shrieking at the top of his lungs, then yelled at the EMTs, "I'm in agony! Quick, gimme some pain meds! Hurry up, I'm dying!"
The two EMTs, who also knew exactly what kind of person Frank was, totally ignored him and just loaded him into the ambulance.
Done deal.
One of the EMTs asked Fiona, "Are you guys coming with him?"
Fiona didn't hesitate for a second. She shook her head. "I need to get the kids back home. I'll go over later."
Lip and the others kept quiet.
The EMT didn't say anything else, knowing that the Gallaghers wouldn't show up until tomorrow—because, of course, they didn't have the cash for the medical bill and had no intention of paying it anyway.
In the blink of an eye.
The ambulance, carrying Frank, who was still constantly begging for some drugs, sped off toward the hospital.
Fiona and the others stood there, watching the ambulance leave.
Tony waited a moment, then said gently to Fiona, "Well, I'm gonna head out. You get some rest, too."
Fiona pulled her eyes away and nodded. "Thanks."
Tony, still in full 'nice-guy mode,' smiled, looking a little happy. "No problem at all."
With that, Tony and his partner got back in their car and drove away.
"Let's head back," Fiona told Lip and the others.
Lip and the rest didn't waste any time and turned to walk home.
Carl was furious. He growled, "If I ever find out which jerk did this, I swear I'll kill him!"
Hearing that, Fiona immediately cut him off. "No one is going to kill anyone. This has nothing to do with you, and Frank brought it on himself. Who knows who he pissed off this time."
Lip chimed in, "Look on the bright side. At least Frank will be quiet for a while now."
Ian chuckled and shook his head. "You really think so?"
Lip laughed too. "Well, at least until he gets out of the hospital."
"All right," Fiona interrupted. "Frank is still your father, so knock off the gloating."
Lip and Ian exchanged a knowing glance but didn't say anything more.
Debbie was still looking heartbroken and worried.
The Gallaghers headed back home and went to their separate rooms to sleep.
---
At the hotel.
Dexter played with the Glock 17 for a long time before he finally turned off the light, still not wanting to stop, and fell asleep.
He slept like a rock, not dreaming about a thing.
Cancer, a thirty-day life span, even reality itself...
It was all out of his mind.
In a flash.
It was a new day.
Dexter woke up naturally, washed up, and after thinking it over, decided to check out the burger joint where Fiona was currently working.
The original show never specified exactly where the burger shop was, but he knew it was near the elevated train station, so he'd have to look for it.
About an hour later.
He found it.
Fiona, dressed in her uniform, was busy behind the counter.
Dexter watched from a distance for a moment, then walked over. "A chicken sandwich, a jumbo hot dog, and a Coke."
"That'll be eight dollars and fifty cents," Fiona quickly totaled the order and turned to grab the food.
Dexter took the food and, smiling, handed her a fifty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."
Fiona was surprised, then flashed a big smile. "Thanks, handsome."
"See ya later, Fiona," Dexter said, then turned and walked away.
Hearing her own name suddenly, Fiona froze for a second. She looked at Dexter's retreating back, totally confused about what had just happened.