Tiny
Jerk's got a job. Jerk works at The News. The News is the heart of the city, at least as far as Jerk's concerned.
Door opens, bell rings.
"Jerk, where the fuck have you been?" Barks the enormous man behind the counter. He's got the brow of a caveman and two bushy caterpillars lurk behind horn-rimmed glasses an accountant would appreciate. A mass of flesh, tall as a bookcase.
"Fuck you, Tiny, you know where the fuck I've been." Jerk barks back.
"Hey! Is that any way to talk to your father?" Tiny bellows. Jerk sees a kid at the comic rack wincing, bracing for a hit. Kid's heard that tone before. Jerk decides to let the kid go if he shoplifts later.
"Father? The only time your fat ass ever ran was from the paternity test." Don't worry, kid. Jerk knows this routine.
"Hah, good one, Jerk." Tiny laughs with the mirthless bass of a passing truck. He puts a key ring on the glass counter. "I can't stay, need you to watch The News until Late gets here."
Jerk groans. "Fucking Late? He's not going to show up until 3am!"
"I told Late to be Early." Tiny says, solemnly, as if his words could ward off evil, or Late being... Late.
"Don't expect me to pay for my Cokes." Not that Jerk ever does.
"You ever pay for them?" And Tiny knows the score.
"Just go, Tiny." Jerk takes the key ring off the counter. "I'll watch The News till Late gets here, whenever it is."
Tiny just makes a grunt of approval, extracts his mass from behind the counter, and makes his way to the exit. He pushes the door open and holds it as he looks back. "Just don't let the place burn down, OK?"
"No promises."