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"Darla, do you really need that teddy bear?"
Freddy had to hold back a snort. Billy's four month anniversary at Vasquez Manor might be coming up fast, but he was still very much a new kid. It wasn't like Eugene or Mary would ask that sort of thing.
Darla's face drooped. She turned, her back opposite the front of the brightly lit and well packed claw machine. Once she saw one of these things when she was out, it took a tow truck to pull her away. What were these, Freddy wondered, if not a gateway into gambling?
"Well..." she squeaked.
Billy looked to Freddy, his eyes wide. Six dollars in - four of them his own - and he had nothing to show for his efforts. The purple teddy bear that had so ensnared Darla sat atop a plush cat and perched next to an overstuffed frog, its beady plastic eyes gleaming.
Freddy shrugged. "I'll win it for you."
Darla turned, her pigtails bobbing. "Really?" Her grin was so wide that he could see her every tooth.
"Really." He smirked. "It's what good big brothers do."
Billy gave him a glare sharper than broken glass. "And how," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, "do you expect to do that? That stupid claw doesn't have any grip strength." He shook his head. "You know what? Go for it, man. Throw your money away."
Freddy chuckled. "Who said anything about money?" He gestured towards the nearby entrance to Pizza Express' men's room. "See you guys in a sec. I've got to go... Freshen up."
Billy's jaw tightened. "Dude, are you seriously...?" He turned his head, taking in the rows of packed tables and scurrying waitstaff. "You know."
"What do you think?"
The men's room was, as always, empty. That wasn't a surprise. Freddy had been in many dirty restrooms in his fourteen years of life, and not even the scummiest had come close to this. Forgetting shutting the place down, it was a miracle that the health department hadn't classified it as a toxic waste dump. Just as Freddy was about to slip into the accessible stall, the door behind him flew open.
"Dude!" Billy's sneakers squeaked as he hurried towards him, his cheeks almost as red as his hoodie. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Just evening my odds of victory. You can't expect me to do it looking like this, do you?"
"But that's theft!" Billy threw his arms out, groaning. "You're the one always going on about the ethics of superheroics. Do you think great responsibility means making off with an overpriced arcade game?"
"Hey, I'm just going to shake it a little. What's the harm in that?"
With his newly bare wallet, why was Billy even complaining? And it wasn't like he was the first person to ever leave here empty-handed, either. How many nights out had been ruined by that soul-sucking toy temptation? With all the money it had stolen over the years, it was the real criminal.
"Look, if you're not going to help me..."
He huffed. "Fine, Freeman."
"You know what they say: Two is better than one." He grabbed the door's metal handle. "Now if you don't mind, this stall's already taken."