"I need money." Jonathan elaborated as he started to walk ahead of Edward, assuming the other would soon catch him up. "F-Follow." He was going to eat some fried chicken but he didn't feel like stuttering over the two very difficult words in such a stupid way so he found it would be easier to just guide Edward along.

"He th-thrusts his fists against the p-p-- shit." Jonathan huffed in annoyance, still mumbling to himself. He was going to fucking master this shit, even if it killed him. Then Falcone's goons would at least have one last thing to laugh at. He wasn't allowed a better dealing area until he didn't sound like fucking Porky Pig. "He th-thrusts his f-f-f-"