Jordan('s) Brand (Formerly)

They called Eddie ‘The Poet’ on account of he spoke in tiny little fragments, none of which made any damn sense. He had a way with words the same way a lawn mower has a way with tennis balls. And even so, today, he was talking even stupider than usual.

“You got, like… are you gonna offer?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, not meeting my eye, which did not set off any alarms for me. I sold all sorts of stuff, but in some ways, regardless of the product, what I really peddled was shame. As a result, eye contact came in short supply.

“Eddie,” I said, “I can enjoy a puzzle as much as the next guy, but with transactions like this, I prefer to actually talk in coherent phrases. Now, when you called, you said you needed a brick. Is that still the case?”

“You mean, like concrete or, is it, materially speaking…?”

I took a deep breath and reminded Eddie of the exact nature of the brick I had on offer, one that might help him kickstart a little corner empire, but which, I assured him, would be a pisspoor choice if all he wanted to do was build a chimney. Even after this, he still claimed to be a bit unclear on the agreement, the parameters of which he himself had set in the text sent earlier, so I stepped closer and spoke slower.

Only as I enunciated the exact services I was willing to render did it occur to me that something was not right here. In the next instant, who’s coming down the alleyway but two boys in blue.

“You a rat now, Eddie?” I said, as they led me away in cuffs.

Eddie only shrugged. “Said it’d be a good deal. For you.”

Back on the street, the officers deposited me into the back of a black sedan, where I was in for two surprises: first, that they walked off rather than get in and drive me away, and second, that the backseat was already occupied. Next to me sat a man in a tie and aviators who identified himself as Agent Marshall.

“What’s the agency?” I said.

He looked away, out the window, as he spoke to me. “I wouldn’t worry about that. You’ve got bigger issues. That much product, and with your rap sheet, it doesn’t look good for you, James. But I can make it all go away.”

“Oh, really?” I said. “And why would you be so generous?”

“Because I need your help dealing with something, a notorious cyber criminal who goes by Mr. M.”

“Pfft,” I said. “How am I supposed to help with that? I’ve never even heard of the guy.”

“I’m not surprised,” Agent Marshall said. “We’ve been on him for two years, and even so, we don’t know much about him. No whereabouts, no business associates, nothing. In fact, we only know two things: first, that he’s got something planned, something big and potentially devastating. And second?” Now, he finally turned to me. “We know he’s your estranged brother.”

Editor’s Note: Eddie, James, and Agent Marshall were all wearing Hanes Originals SuperSoft Men’s Crewneck T-Shirts under their other shirts.