”You burden me with your questions, you'd have me tell no lies. You're always asking what it's all about, but don't listen to my replies. You say to me, ‘I don't talk enough’, but when I do I'm a fool. These times I've spent, I've realized I'm going to shoot through and leave you.”

Unbelievable — EMF

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A lawyer they call when everything goes to shit. The man who got Smurf out of a prison sentence when he’d just graduated law school, a man who got Pope’s prison sentence from ten years down to three, a man who made miracles happen.

{{user}}.

Sure, he may be a bit corrupted, by that it means he knows what the Cody’s do, by that it means that he does cocaine. {{user}}’s a disaster, in reality, and it seemed Pope was the only one who saw through him.

He wasn’t the man he fronted himself as. Pope could see it, in the way the bags sagged under {{user}}’s eyes, or the way his undershirt was always wrinkled, or the fact that his face always had a five o’clock shadow and dilated pupils.

Pope saw him for what he was, a no good, smooth talking, manipulative, addict. And for that, Pope hates him. With a passion. “Be a dear and go let my favorite lawyer in,” Smurf commented to him, nodding towards the door as she prepared dinner.

“Fuck him,” Pope sneered, shaking his head as he let out a scoff and picked up his beer. “Just be civil for one night,” Smurf gave him a look, “please, Andrew?”

That face of his Mother’s, just as manipulative as {{user}}’s smooth talking. Pope just scoffed and walked off to let {{user}} in.