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"See! This is the old stubborn mule in my house! It's only nine in the morning! Only nine! And he's already howling! Afraid I'll be late by a minute and delay his damn 'Chastity Sermon'!"
"Today is Saturday, and he won't give me any freedom!"
Listening to Karen's complaints and recalling her "achievements" in the original work, Shane couldn't help but tease:
"Hmm... sounds like the theme of this event is indeed 'quite suitable' for you."
"Screw you!" Karen laughed and scolded, slapping Shane's chest lightly.
"If I don't go, he'll deduct all my pocket money! He'll also cry and snivel in front of those pastors, accusing me of being 'tempted by the devil and led astray'! Then my mom will be scared to death, pull me into a corner, and beg me humbly to cooperate with the performance... What can I do?"
After speaking, Karen sighed deeply and smashed her head into the pillow in frustration.
"So, baby, I can't go out and 'party' with you during the day today."
She turned her head and looked at Shane, who was already putting on his pants. "I have to finish acting out this 'good daughter and idiot old father' drama. Otherwise, he'll cut off my allowance and maybe even lock me in the house for a week!"
Shane tied his shoelaces, pondering in his heart.
Well, this was indeed something the controlling, conservative Eddie Jackson would do.
Although due to his influence, the relationship between this father and daughter wasn't as fiery as in the original show yet, Shane knew this was just superficial peace.
If Eddie knew that this "Asian kid from the Gallagher family" in his eyes not only went after his daughter but also "studied" her inside and out... he might chase him with a shotgun.
Thinking of the complex emotions between the two in the original show.
This Eddie... you say he loves Karen, but he wouldn't even go to her parent-teacher conference, thinking it was a waste of time, yet at the sermon, he publicly humiliated his own daughter with the most vicious language in front of all the church members.
You say he doesn't love Karen, but before committing suicide, the last thing he did was change the beneficiary of his pension to Karen.
So, it's truly a tangled mess...
"Got to find a chance to 'straighten out' the twisted relationship in their family a bit..." Shane noted in his heart.
"Alright," Shane finished tying his shoes, stood up, and kissed Karen on the forehead.
"You go to church and play your role of the 'lost little lamb finding its way back.' As for me, I'm going to start my 'small money-making plan.' If you still have energy after 'acting' tonight..."
He winked at Karen. "Call me anytime."
Karen wrapped herself in the quilt, revealing only her face, and said impatiently: "Hmph, hurry up and go. Also, you'd better not dive headfirst into that broken warehouse full of sweat again."
Although Karen's tone was impatient, her eyes were full of attachment. She climbed out of bed briskly, naked, helped Shane open the window, and urged:
"Hurry up, before my dad comes up to 'inspect the room'!"
Shane climbed out the window, stepped on familiar footholds, and soon jumped to the ground.
He looked back and made a "call me" gesture to Karen, who was still standing at the window watching him. Then he tightened his collar and walked into the South Side Saturday morning street scene.
---
Braving the winter wind of Chicago, Shane walked quickly to the Alibi Room.
He pushed open the wooden door. Kevin was behind the bar, wiping the counter with a dirty rag, looking somewhat listless.
Seeing Shane come in, Kevin just lifted his eyelids and greeted him vaguely: "Hey, Shane." Then he continued his work, thinking Shane was here to fiddle with his warehouse again.
But this time Shane didn't walk toward the warehouse; instead, he leaned directly onto the bar counter.
"Kevin," Shane said straight to the point, "I have a new money-making gig, and I need to use that van in your backyard that's been collecting dust."
"Huh?"
Kevin didn't even lift his head, just sneering:
"Thinking about my broken car? Do you want to use it to transport stolen goods, or do you finally plan to use your 'strengths' and convert it into a mobile 'sex' hotel, charging by the hour?"
Kevin paused, adding with a bit of playfulness, "I suggest you stick to transporting stolen goods. If you do a mobile hotel, in the South Side, with your small physique, I guess the money you make won't even cover gas and laundry."
"It's a mobile vault."
Shane grinned, revealing white teeth, smiling confidently.
He then quickly explained his plan for a mobile breakfast stall, selling cheap coffee and burger combos in places with high traffic.
But he didn't mention details of costs and profits to Kevin, only emphasizing market demand and simple operation. Not to deceive Kevin, but because talking numbers with Kevin was purely casting pearls before swine.
Finally, Shane concluded: "So, you provide the car, I cover all costs (gas, repairs, materials) and handle all the work. Of course, if business is too busy to handle, I might need you, the 'strong labor,' to lend a hand. As for profit... I'll give you 10%."
Hearing this, Kevin finally stopped wiping and began to stroke his chin habitually to ponder.
He basically never used that car; to him, it was just a piece of scrap metal taking up space, depreciating constantly.
And now, Shane not only didn't require him to pay for gas or repairs, but was making his idle asset generate money out of thin air. Just by helping out occasionally, he could have continuous income.
"OK! No problem!"
Kevin slapped the bar refreshingly, making several glasses rattle.
"That broken car is sitting idle anyway. But..." He leaned closer, a rare seriousness on his face.
"When you go out to 'set up a stall' in the morning, keep your eyes peeled! If you see those in uniform, don't hesitate, remember to run fast!"
He gestured with his hands, emphasizing: "Losing the car isn't a big deal, but you are my coach..."
Kevin struck a bodybuilding pose Shane taught him. "You absolutely must not get thrown into the slammer! Otherwise, besides owing me a new car, no one will help me manage my perfect body!"
After speaking, Kevin bent down directly, fumbled under the bar for a while, pulled out a car key, and threw it toward Shane.
Shane caught the key flying through the air, his face full of confidence, responding:
"Don't worry, Kevin. In the South Side, even Frank dodging debts doesn't run as fast as me!"