Name?
McCoy. Straight.
Right, yer real name?
*levels you with a
look*
*gave the name Roger McCoy the night he beat Tom, but to quote Greg, 'If
dat's 'is real name, I'm a monk.'* *Occasional patron Charlie Heard has been known to call him ´Godwin´ - which, of course, has no connection whatsoever to New York banker Stephen Godwin of the Upper East Side.*
Sure . . . age?
Twenty-one.
Appearance? Or do I jus’ write
down ‘ugly as sin’ an’ save ya da trouble?
You get funnier every day.
*is a lean six feet tall with ragged brown hair, blue eyes, 'gamblers'
hands,' and a pinched, unsmiling face* *wears the same threadbare
suit every night, despite the fact that his winnings ought to pay for better
clothes, even
with the house's cut*
What’s yer story?
I work here. *which is only obvious
by this point; he has no intention of sharing his secrets with anyone who
doesn't already know them*
Dat da one yer tellin’ da bulls?
*another look*
Single tanight, or datin’?
Not dating, not looking.
Any weapons? Ya drop ‘em on da table.
*drops a small pistol on the table, ignoring the glare from Daley* *managed to smuggle the gun inside for a month before Daley caught him at it and Greg still hasn´t forgiven him the tongue-lashing he got from Beale as a result*
What’s yer game?
Poker. *An understatement. The
night before he started working, Straight became one of five people to
beat the house in the history of the Silver Nickel - and the only one to
do so when Tom Little was dealing. They say he was hired to keep it from ever happening again.*
Anythin' else we should know?
*has a way of angling himself at the poker table so that - should he ever look up - he would always be able to see waitress Lily Masterton - however, he never looks up*
CONTACT
STRAIGHT