I Use the Term "Missionary" Loosely

Faust covered it with a blanket and said something quietly before he turned back to Thaddeus.

"Thank you." He replied, somewhat solemnly for him. "It's so hard for me to do it myself. I just love my creations so much."

"...Just...pay me so I can get out of here," he said, his voice oddly quiet.

"For a big bad gangster, you sure seem uncomfortable with killing." Faust mused, rifling around in his lab until the money he was looking for.

He glared at Faust.

"That thing wasn't fucking human."

He sighed.

"I know...I can't seem to make a suitable body for my dear Eunice. Her soul keeps rejecting them..." He mumbled, handing a few wads of cash to Thaddeus.

Thaddeus flipped through the bills, mentally calculating the amount.

"...This isn't enough."

He frowned slightly.

"Just what did you? Why do you need so much money, my dear Thaddeus?"

"...None of your business," he grumbled. He attempted to look irritated, but his distress was clearly visible beneath it. "I just need some more money, is all--it's not my fault you pay fucking chump change."

"I think I have a right to know where my hard earned money is going." He replied, crossing his arms and leaning against a table. "So please, do tell."

"To me, you dumbass," he replied evasively.

"And then where?" He prodded.

"Wherever the fuck I want it to go," he growled defensively.

He frowned sadly.

"I don't want you paying for hookers with that money; you have me, after all." He smiled at Thaddeus suggestively.

"I don't like hookers, but I like you less," he spat.

"Then what are you spending it on?"

"Things," he replied, pocketed the bills. "But this isn't enough, so fork up more before I hurt you."

"You haven't earned it yet." He said simply. "Come back tomorrow."

"...You don't understand," he said, starting to panic. "I need ten grand by tonight. Any later and I'm fucking toast!!"

"Then explain to me what you need it for and I'll just force you to work it off later." He told Thaddeus. "So, spit it out already."

He groaned, leaning against the wall.

"...It's really none of your business."

"If you need the money this badly, you'll tell me." Faust replied simply. "If not, then I suppose you can just leave."

"...I'm in a little bit of trouble, okay?"

"It sounds like a lot of trouble to me." Faust replied. "What did you do?"

He grumbled something under his breath, pouting like a child as he crossed his arms.

"Louder." He ordered.