Brian did not feel strongly about that much if anything at all, and so while the island wasn't the place he wanted to be, for the most part he didn't care
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"Bobby Darin," Bob says with a decisive nod as he watches the man whistle along. He's been observing for awhile, actually, quietly watching as he doodles meaningless equations on his notepad. "Did you know that his real name was Walden Robert Cassotto?" he asks, shuffling a little closer, but not close enough to actually be in the way. "He decided to change his last name to Darin after reading a malfunctioning Chinese sign that advertised 'Darin Duck.' See, it was supposed to say Mandarin Duck, but the 'man' part was unlit. Isn't that interesting?"
Brian looked up after taking his first shot, smiling slightly and politely, but he did appreciate the fact that the guy wasn't from some backwater fantasy planet or a demented cross-eyed pirate. Learning about Bobby Darin's life and times wasn't thrilling but it wasn't painful to listen to. "I didn't know that, but I can see why he came up with a new one." Walden Cassotto was just about as lame as a name could get.
"Mmm," Bob says with another nod, pleased that the man seems to be genuinely interested. It's not often that Bob can find a stranger willing to listen to what he says with interest. "Probably to sound more American," he explains and then chews on his lip as he listens more intently to the music, his brow furrowing slowly. "This doesn't sound like Bobby Darin, though."
"No, it's someone else," Brian agreed with a shrug. "But you can blame that on the jukebox," he added, indicating the machine with his cue. Although this was the sort of song he would have been willing to play a record of.
He likes older tunes. I didn't know this, but I suppose there's a lot I have left to learn about my brother. I paste on smile - we're in a public area after all - and join him at the table. "Are you good at this?"
"Sort of," Brian admitted, making a great break. Not that Dexter probably knew what that looked like and not that Brian particularly cared about impressing anyone with his ability to shove balls into holes with a stick.
Still, he was genuninely happy to see his brother and smirked to indicate as much as he leaned on the cue. "How's tricks?"
"Rotten," I say, just a small spark of petulant heat in my voice. He'll surely understand why, I know he's got the same itch between his shoulderblades. I give the pool table a dull stare. "Can I play?"
Brian nodded thoughtfully, offering up the cue. "Here."
He didn't have a solution to his brother's problem because he didn't have a solution to his own. There were plenty of people who could have used a good decapitation and subsequent dismemberment, but the hell if anyone was going to admit it which didn't leave Brian with any great options or prospects in terms of entertainment. Getting killed the first time around had sucked and not even the darkest part of him wanted to kill Dexter.
"Make me proud," he teased before moving away from the table.
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Still, he was genuninely happy to see his brother and smirked to indicate as much as he leaned on the cue. "How's tricks?"
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He didn't have a solution to his brother's problem because he didn't have a solution to his own. There were plenty of people who could have used a good decapitation and subsequent dismemberment, but the hell if anyone was going to admit it which didn't leave Brian with any great options or prospects in terms of entertainment. Getting killed the first time around had sucked and not even the darkest part of him wanted to kill Dexter.
"Make me proud," he teased before moving away from the table.
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