Broadcast: Next up, we have a song for you requested by Mr. Liu, owner of the Red Lily Pharmacy on Haight Street—Jasmine.
Broadcast: And here's a little weather report—we've got a bout of extreme weather headed our way; we're talking scorching heatwaves followed up by the one-two punch of a heavy storm front.
Broadcast: And now, a special announcement: the Silver Gate Restaurant on Grant Avenue will be hosting a banquet at 6 PM tomorrow evening in support of ...
???: Don't move, please. You have a serious leg injury.
???: Mr. J, why did you fall from that building?
J: I ... um? Bru ... Bruce ...?
Dr. Liu: That's right. You remember me? Bruce, yes, Dr. Bruce Liu. I stitched up your arm last month.
Dr. Liu: Hey, listen—lie still, you're very badly hurt.
J: Looks like they didn't bother chasing me down here.
Dr. Liu: They? Down here? I'm not following.
J: Just help me up, man. I gotta get back on my feet.
J: I guess I lost them.
Dr. Liu: I don't believe anyone is searching for you.
Pioneer: Not quite true, Doc. J, where have you been off gallivanting this time?
J: Antony said he hooked me up with a deal, and check it—this is what I got for all my trouble.
It is a grim sight; the young man lies out on a medical bed in a state of brooding agony.
Pioneer: Our Antony? Hmm. "Disaster strikes from within." The doctor just taught me this idiom. I don't have to explain what an idiom is to you, do I, J?
J: AHHHHHH! AHHH!
Dr. Liu: Mr. J ...
Pioneer: You have some luck, you know, old boy. That bin you angled yourself into was filled with tattered up old clothes and children's toys from the thrift store.
Pioneer: Not only that, you managed to fall right next to the clinic of the most remarkable surgeon on Haight Street.
Dr. Liu: You flatter me, Mr. Pioneer. I am only a back-alley doctor, living off the trust of the locals here and a steady supply of medicinal alcohol.
The doctor attends to J's leg as he speaks, once again preventing the bloodied gangster from rising to his feet with a stern hand.
Dr. Liu: What I must do now will be very painful, J. But if you can tough it out, your wounds will heal quickly.
Dr. Liu: Let me be clear, J. I mean that this is going to be very, very painful.
Not "tough-for-someone-else-but-not-me" painful. Okay, big guy?
J: Whatever, shove an apple in my mouth then, or a light bulb. Ah no, scratch the light bulb. I remember when Hollick did that, and he was spitting out glass and blood for hours.
J: Alright, doc. Hit me with it.
He bites down hard on his lip, eyes shut, and breathes deeply.
Dr. Liu: Okay, just one moment. I'll count to five. Brace yourself.
Dr. Liu: One, two ... five!
An unexpected and excruciating moment passes as his leg is twisted back into position.
J: ...
And then another twist, and just like that, it's done.
J: I thought Donowitz was the only guy on our block who couldn't count right.
Pioneer: It's a well-known technique. I've used it myself when I lost a few of my own fingers. I counted two, and then next came five. It's a little less time in the agony of anticipation. Of course, my fingers were made to be reattached.
Bullet-sized beads of sweat mix with the blood dripping from the bite marks on his lower lip. Still, as the moment passes, a smile comes back to J's face.
J: Hey, that wasn't so ... bad ... after all!
Dr. Liu: Come, Mr. J. Let's see if you can put some weight on that leg.
J: ...!
J: Nice! My leg's back to normal! What the heck did you do to me, doc?!
Dr. Liu: Call it traditional Chinese medicine, arcane skill, or whatever suits your fancy. I call it bone-setting, an ancient healing technique practiced for millennia.
Dr. Liu: Later, I'll concoct some gardenia blood wine for you. If the pain persists, you'll need to dab it on your bruises with some cotton and rub it gently into your skin. Once in the morning and night, each time for a quarter-hour.
The physician cleanses his hands in a nearby basin, dries them with a towel, then crouches by J's side, patting his injured leg.
J: How long's a quarter-hour again?
Pioneer: Fifteen minutes, nine hundred seconds, or one-fourth of an hour, take your pick.
Dr. Liu: How is the pain?
J: Like nothing, feels as good as new.
He cricks his neck, rotates his wrists, and flexes his limbs like nothing happened.
...
Dr. Liu: Excuse me for a second, it seems we have visitors.
Before the doctor can even turn around to address the voices coming from outside, two men rush into the clinic.
One stout and the other skinny, they squeeze through the tight doorframe and crash to the floor.
Hollick: J! I heard ya fell from the eighteenth floor! Man, that's some wild stuff!
Becket: Eighteenth floor? It was the eighth floor, the eighth! This joint's only got eight floors, rooftop and all!
Becket: But that's still high up enough that you ought to be a J pancake, so how come you ain't?
Pioneer: Without the aid of any protective means or arcane skills, a fall from either height would ordinarily be deadly.
J: Fellas, best not to get hung up on this right now. How'd you two even hear about my "fall"?
Pioneer: Dr. Liu called the restaurant just before you woke up.
Becket: Good thing he did, too.
Dr. Liu: I thought it best to let your friends know, Mr. J.
His friends are here, that much is true, but the momentary levity is broken by the arrival of some very much uninvited guests.
???: Hello, Dr. Liu! We've come to talk with you about our business proposition.
???: Hey? Doctor? It's the middle of the day, and the door's not locked. Anybody here?
Dr. Liu: Darn it, they've come again. Please kindly wait here. I'll speak with them.
Becket: Those punks lost or somethin'? Think they can stir up trouble on our block?!
J: Take it easy, listen to the doc, Becket. Let's chill for a second and scope out the scene.
Hollick: You heard the boss, Becket!
Dr. Liu: Ah, welcome, welcome, gentlemen. What can I do for you? Any sprained ankles, injuries? I can treat bruises, fractures, broken bones, colds, and fevers too.
Henchman Leader: Don't play dumb with me, Liu!
Henchman Leader: I've got a contract for you. I'm bringing it nice and friendly-like—today. Sign it, and we all walk out of here happy.
Henchman Leader: You take the cash, my crew packs up your stuff, and you hit the road.
Henchman Leader: And if you don't ...
Henchman: Sign here.
The menacing brute pulls out a document from his briefcase, inscribed with words of "generosity," "friendliness," and "sincerity."
Dr. Liu: I'm sorry, gentlemen. But this offer, it's just too low. You can't ask me to surrender my livelihood for this. It's daylight robbery!
Henchman Leader: Robbery? Pfft, our boss has a big heart, taking this ratty drugstore off your hands and still tossing you a little cash! Make the smart decision, doc.
Hollick: J, I smell somethin' fishy goin' on out there.
Before Hollick can finish, J strides out, flinging aside the clinic's yellowed curtain and stepping into the front hall.
Pioneer: Remember, don't start throwing punches, at least not until they do.
His two friends follow closely behind him, the burly Hollick and the nimble Becket flanking J's imposing figure.
Pioneer: Oh, this does not look like it will end well. Best I call on Sheriff Blackhand.
J: You think you can get away with strong-arming folks around here?
J: He ain't looking to deal with trash like you.
Henchman: Watch it, punk.
Henchman Leader: Trash? Say that again, kid, and I swear you'll be in the trash tomorrow morning, wrapped up in a Persian rug.
Pioneer: Yes, that's right, the Red Lily Clinic. Connect me directly with Sheriff Blackhand, if you would. There's likely to be an incident here that demands his immediate attention.
J: Dr. Liu ain't signing anything today, pal.
It's three against two, or perhaps only one, as the would-be mobster withdraws meekly behind his muscle.
Hollick and Becket step forward, presenting a solid wall that shields the doctor behind them.
Becket: What is it, little man? You don't wanna get those soft hands of yours dirty?
Henchman: How about you check out these mitts, kid?
The bald strongman seizes Becket by the collar, his fist held back and taut like a slingshot ready to launch.
Hollick: Becket!
J: I'll admit it, bub. You've got a pair of monsters there.
J: Cool it, Hollick.
Henchman Leader: Put your hands down, moron. We don't want to make another mess for the boss to clean up! Let's get out of here!
Becket wriggles free from the brute's grip and snorts up at him, taking time to straighten out his clothes as he falls back behind Hollick.
Pioneer: I think we should all take a step back, gents. The doctor's calendar here says today's not a good day for a brawl.
The mannequin squeezes in between the two sides, raising his hands rigidly as if to create a barrier.
Dr. Liu: There's never a good day for fighting! Peace is precious, gentlemen.
The tense standoff grows awkward, and the unwelcome pair of thugs slink back toward the door.
Henchman Leader: This ain't over.
Henchman Leader: Liu, we tossed you a bone, but we won't be so generous next time. Come on, you big lug. We gotta get out of here.
The unwelcome guests leave their threats hanging as they fall back through the clinic's door.
Pioneer: Well done, gents. It seems you've won, for the moment.
Hollick: J, did you know those guys?
J: Yeah, they were there last night. When Antony brought me up to the rooftop here to make a deal with their boss. Or so he said—
J: But it was a setup!
J: Their boss handed me a box of cash, wanted me to sell Haight Street out to him, or else I wasn't going to leave that rooftop alive.
J: Lucky for me, my best girl had my back, and we found our own way down.
The swordsmith pats the colossal weapon behind him with pride.
Pioneer: Your "own way down" being an eight-story drop slowed only by your sword, as I understand.
Pioneer: So then, these men are in the employ of this Hung San. Doctor, might I presume you are far from the only business to have been approached with this "generous offer"?
Dr. Liu: sigh
Dr. Liu: I'm afraid so. Not just that, they've also been muscling out the migrant workers. Seems they don't want anyone left on Haight Street.
J: What?!
A little late to the action, the door swings open, and a familiar face walks through confidently.
Sheriff Blackhand: Alright, I'm here. Now someone want to tell me what sort of "incident" was kicking off here?
Sheriff Blackhand: J, Hollick, Becket ... Should have known you three would be here.
Pioneer: I made the call, Sheriff. Fortunately, the matter was resolved without bloodshed.
Sheriff Blackhand: You going to tell me what happened?
J: Really, Blackhand? You're going to tell me our sheriff's got no idea what's going on in his own backyard?
Sheriff Blackhand: Zip it, kid. And you're one to talk. From the look of you, I'm guessing these Grant Avenue boys already got the drop on you.
Dr. Liu: They want to tear down the street so they can build some kind of entertainment complex. They've already pressured a few shops to close.
J: An entertainment complex. Jeez, and I suppose in their heads, we'll all just sign up to wait tables for their crumbs? Where are the kids going to leave their tags on a monstrosity like that?
Sheriff Blackhand: You know I'd rather you weren't encouraging the kids to plaster every wall with that crap. It's a pain in my ass to get it cleaned up.
J: Hey, it's street art, man, street art! We gotta protect the arts, don't we?!
Sheriff Blackhand: Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I've got bigger things on my plate. And so do you. Listen, I know most folk working around here don't have their papers, and I've got orders from up-top to come down hard on them.
J: You gonna follow through?
Sheriff Blackhand: Gonna? Ha, you've been out for a bit, haven't you? We've already wrangled them up by the dozens, and they're gonna stay there until they're deported.
Deportation. A dreadful term, worse than a two-week-old sour cucumber beef roll.
Sheriff Blackhand: I'll tell you what, though, J, I hate this new crew just as much as you do. They're making a mess of this district, and now I've got city hall squeezing me. So you gonna tell me what you know?
Sheriff Blackhand: This block's got its own rules, and I know you boys have kept things nice and low-key, but if things change ... Dammit, I don't want to have to play rough here.
Sheriff Blackhand: For now, I've got to make appearances. So, if you want your street back, you gotta figure out who these new guys are and who's backing their operation.
Pioneer: If I've picked up what the sheriff is saying, J, it sounds like you handle the gang, and he'll restore freedom to our neighborhood friends.
Sheriff Blackhand: The dummy's got it right. I'm asking you to make my life a little easier, and find out who's backing these guys.
Sheriff Blackhand: No hard feelings, J. You've got your problems, and I've got mine. Me, you, Becket, Hollick ... we all agree on this—priority one is taking out these gangsters.
The sheriff glances at Hollick and Becket.
J: I'm in, Sheriff.
Pioneer: It seems to be the best way forward for us.
Becket: Whatever you say, J.
Hollick: Boss, you say jump, I'm jumpin'!
Sheriff Blackhand: Great. Get it done.
