2010-02-20: Horse Droppings



Date: February 20, 2010


While observing a possible candidate for a bag and tag, Cody makes a drop.

"Horse Droppings"

Meadowlands Racetrack - New Jersey

Saturday at the racetrack in New Jersey. They haven't started quite yet but there's quite a few preliminaries for this year's thoroughbreds to go through if they hope to qualify. It's not exactly a place that Cody goes for pleasure, but today she's combining, today's flavor is a little jockey from Georgia.

He's a winner, at least all of the horses he rides are. Cody's been tracking him for a little while, on and off the internet. The same horses that he's been riding do not perform quite as well when he's off of them. It is assumed he adds a boost of speed.

She is sitting in the stands with a pair of binoculars in hand and a small package in the seat beside her. It's a bold move, attempting a hand off in the middle of an operation, but if someone was looking at her, they definitely wouldn't do it during a take down.

Clothed comfortably on this cool day, some random guy casually makes his way down the steps, looking at a ticket in his hand now and then. Eventually, he seems to find the row he's supposed to be in, and the seat just happens to be right next to Cody. Where the package is sitting. "Hey," Pyle says, "Is this yours?" He picks it up, makes a completely unremarkable gesture, and ends up with the package somehow in his pocket as he sits down. Now he's got to stay for at least awhile, perhaps considering the fact that someone could be watching, or perhaps he just likes a good horserace. Who knows? "So, what're the odds, you think? Who's the winner? I didn't check."

Looking down on her program, Cody's lips twitch just a little and she shrugs. Then she smiles toward the man and shakes her head, giving him a small motion to sit. Should anyone be watching, they would think she is just being cordial before she shifts seats, leaving one in between them. "I was thinking Kentucky Thunder, his rider's one of the best. Light." She places one foot up on the seats and keeps watching the race through a pair of large binoculars. "Are you a fan of racing? I used to go when I was little, with my grandfather." Meaningless idle chatter, it's a specialty of Cody's. Find one thing and just expand on it.

Chris looks out at the horses. They're interesting, in and of themselves. Creatures with power without having anything extraordinary to them above and beyond what people consider 'natural.' What's natural, though, really? The definition is always expanding. Always changing.

"Yeah?" He finds the horse among the others, or the horse he thinks Cody might be talking about. "Eh, I catch a race once in awhile. Gotta keep my life from getting monotonous. You know, everyone should try something different once in awhile."

"Making life interesting… Well that's a feat we all have to deal with, don't we?" Cody reaches into her pocket and pulls out a package of McDonald's chocolate chip cookies and begins to munch on them. Really, they're very disgusting, but she's had worse things to eat. Like those mice when she was crossing a mountain that one time. They were a bugger to catch, but worth it in the end… even if they were raw.

Slowly, the woman places the program down on the seat in between them. Every race has a number circled. Had a real racing fanatic been looking, he would catch on that she's not placing bets in any fashion that could guarantee a win. "Take a look at those horses, you might pick up a tip."

The package is, for now, ignored. He'll have to get to it later. Still, he's aware of what should be in there, and he's looking forward to checking it out. Perhaps 'looking forward to' isn't the right phrase, since this 'work' shouldn't have to be done in the first place.

Unlike Cody, Chris has never had the pleasure of dining on mice, and really wouldn't want to. He'd have to imagine those cookies taste a whole lot better than raw rodent, though. A conversation for another time, perhaps.

"These are the ones that have a chance," he asks, looking from the program, back up to Cody, and then back down again. After a moment's consideration, he picks it up and casually looks over the numbers as he commits them to memory. "Can't say I'll be placing any bets today. Good to know, though." Looking at his watch, he sighs. "Watch says it's 4. That can't be right, he mutters. "Must have stopped yesterday afternoon."

Slowly, almost mischievously, he tears off a corner of the program that Cody handed to him, and he writes a phone number on it. Folding it in half, he hands it to her. "Call me sometime. We'll have dinner. I don't take no for an answer."

Taking the phone number, Cody gives the blonde man a smile and tucks it away into the breast pocket of her vest. "Thanks, I'll definitely take you up on that." She says with a bit of a flirtatious edge to her voice. "Just to let you know, I like steak." Then she settles back into her chair as she watches him out of the corner of her eye. Pyle, the master of sleight of hand, picks up the newspaper and waves it at her as he departs. When Cody looks down beside her, the package is gone.

the letter

Elders, the gods have righted one again Our storm-tossed ship of state, now safe in port. But you by special summons I convened As my most trusted councilors; first, because I knew you loyal to Laius of old; Again, when Oedipus restored our State, Both while he ruled and when his rule was o'er, Ye still were constant to the royal line. Now that his two sons perished in one day,Brother by brother murderously slain, By right of kinship to he Princes dead, I claim and hold the throne and sovereignty. Yet 'tis no easy matter to discern The temper of a man, his mind and will, Till he be proved by exercise of power; And in my case, if one who reigns supreme Swerve from the highest policy, tongue-tied By fear of consequence, that man I hold, And ever held, the basest of the base. And I condemn the man who sets his friend Before his country. For myself, I call To witness Zeus, whose eyes are everywhere, If I perceive some mischievous design To sap the State, I will not hold my tongue; Nor would I reckon as my private friend A public foe, well knowing that the State Is the good ship that holds our fortunes all: Farewell to friendship, if she suffers wreck. Such is the policy by which I seek

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