Actually, the way to truly torture Lip—or rather, to completely ruin his life in one fell swoop—was to let Karen have the baby.
Dexter believed that if he asked—and paid enough—Karen would do it without hesitation.
But that would involve an innocent kid, which wasn't appropriate.
"When Lip gets back, he'll definitely co find you first thing. Have a fight with him. Then, don't let him co with you. Go to the hospital by yourself and solve the problem," Dexter responded, then asked, "Do you know how to start a fight?"
Karen smiled confidently. "I know."
"Good. Once you've recovered, co find . I'll settle the bill," Dexter said.
"Deal. Pleasure doing business," Karen smiled.
"Pleasure. Now hurry up and go to school. I'm off." With that, Dexter walked straight toward the hotel.
---
Juvenile Detention Center.
Lip, his face still bruised and swollen from the latest beating, stood in the yard. He stared at the world beyond the walls, his anxiety growing with every passing second, desperate for tomorrow to co.
Ian knew what Lip was anxious about. He thought for a mont. "Have you figured out what you're going to do once we're out?"
Lip looked away from the wall and turned to Ian. "That's my kid."
Ian frowned. "You don't know that for sure. Who knows how many guys Karen slept with."
Hearing this, a vein pulsed angrily on Lip's forehead, and his gaze turned fierce. "Don't say that!"
Ian persisted. "Lip, wake up. You can't keep that kid. If you do, your life is over!"
"I'll take care of my kid!" Lip snapped, his face flushing red with stubborn rage.
Ian genuinely couldn't understand what was going through Lip's head. He was frantic. "Karen hasn't visited you once in three months! Wake up!"
"In these three months, who knows how many guys she's slept with? Do you really want a life with a girl like that?"
"Shut up!!!" Lip couldn't handle the truth. He roared viciously, then turned and stord off. "Don't follow , or I'll beat the shit out of you!"
Ian, being generally non-confrontational, hesitated for a mont and didn't follow.
---
Prison.
Much like Lip, Fiona was anxious, desperately wishing for the day after tomorrow to arrive.
The day after tomorrow was her parole hearing.
As long as parole was granted, she could leave this nightmare three days from now. She could go back to 2119 North Wallace and see the kids.
Thinking of the kids made her want to cry.
Just then, a tall, burly female inmate approached Fiona. She lood over her, saying nothing, just staring.
Fiona, sitting down, looked up at the inmate with red-rimd eyes, feeling even more like crying.
Two seconds later.
Fiona gritted her teeth and stood up, following the inmate. She silently begged herself to endure it. Just endure it. She absolutely could not resist, or her chances of parole would plumt.
It didn't take long.
Fiona was on her knees, starting her "work."
This was a job Fiona would have to do many tis until her parole was approved.
It was the rule of the yard.
The lifers and long-tirs weren't going to let a fresh piece of at like her leave without getting their fill.
---
In a Nice House Sowhere.
Steve, who had been up late the night before, finally woke up and stretched lazily.
The woman next to him woke up, opened her eyes, took a couple of seconds to focus, and then smiled. "Baby, you're awake."
With that.
The woman moved on her own accord, quickly getting to "work."
Steve closed his eyes comfortably and enjoyed it.
Job done.
Steve got up and left.
Outside the house, Steve glanced back and grinned.
Fiona was coming back soon. He wouldn't be coming here again.
Too bad the woman inside didn't know that.
---
Dexter took an afternoon nap.
When he woke up, seeing it was still early, he didn't rush. He lay in bed, watching TV and thinking.
Now he had a dog.
Although the hotel allowed pets, continuing to live here with a dog wasn't very convenient.
So, he needed to buy a house.
Which one?
The one next to the Gallaghers? Mr. Harrison's old place?
In the original show, Steve eventually bought that house... but so far, he hadn't heard anything about it.
After thinking for a bit, Dexter couldn't be bothered to calculate too much. He decided: Buy it!
Buy it, spend so money, and renovate it properly from the inside out.
Decision made, Dexter didn't waste ti. He got up, went out, and found a real estate agent.
Dexter was now officially a local celebrity. The agent naturally recognized him and bead with delight upon seeing him.
The negotiation went smoothly. In less than ten minutes, Dexter left and headed toward the restaurant.
The rest was up to the agent to negotiate with the owner.
Outside Dex Restaurant, a long line had already ford.
Rich folks from all over Chicago had dropped their airs and were waiting obediently in line. They saw Dexter approaching.
"Mr. Ding!" many called out excitedly.
So custors at the back of the line pleaded impatiently, "Boss, add so extra portions tonight! There are so many people, a hundred isn't enough!"
"Yeah, yeah! You've been gone so long, you have to serve more on your first day back!"
"We ca all the way here!"
"Boss, you wouldn't have the heart to let us wait for nothing, right?"
Dexter: "..."
Looking at the length of the line, there were definitely more than a hundred people.
It was pretty exaggerated.
Dexter was a bit helpless. He ignored the requests for extra food, simply returned the greetings, and quickly ducked into the restaurant.
The custors at the back of the line could do nothing about it.
That was just how Dex Restaurant rolled.
Sigh.
Too late, too bad.
Ti flew. 5:00 PM.
Dex Restaurant officially opened for business. Custors filed in, and the four of them got busy.
---
The Gallagher House.
Comparison is the thief of joy.
Having eaten Dexter's cooking for lunch, eating the nanny's food for dinner felt like torture to Carl. He practically had to force it down his throat.
Debbie hadn't gone to the restaurant for lunch, so she didn't react much. She ate while excitedly talking about Lip and Ian coming ho tomorrow.
"We should throw a party to celebrate them coming back. What do you think?" Debbie asked Carl.
Carl was always interested in a party. "Yeah, sure!"
"But Fiona is coming back in a few days too. We'll have to throw another party then... Maybe we should combine them?" Debbie was torn.
Carl couldn't be bothered with the logistics. "Whatever. But let ask you: parties cost money. Do you have money?"
Debbie had saved a little bit over the past three months. "Only a little. We'll stick to the old rules."
The old rules? Steal stuff, and make the guests BYOB.
Carl had no objections and agreed readily. "Deal."
The party was set.
---
The Alibi Room.
Frank sat at the bar, drinking and running his mouth as usual.
Kevin stood behind the bar, nursing a headache.
Tonight, thanks to Dexter's poster, quite a few wealthy patrons had co to the Alibi.
With these rich folks present, Frank's incessant yapping was really inappropriate. It was going to drive away the paying custors.
The problem was...
He couldn't just kick Frank out. After all, Frank had spent a fortune at the Alibi over the years.
"Frank, quit the noise. Keep it down a bit," Kevin reminded him gently. "Your voice is getting high-pitched. It sounds kinda creepy."
As soon as he said it.
Tommy next to him burst out laughing. "I heard that without balls, a man's voice slowly turns into a tranny voice. Frank, it won't be long before you turn into a ladyboy!"
"Fuck you!!" Frank couldn't take that insult and cursed loudly.
As a result, his voice cracked and went even higher, drawing a roar of laughter from the barflies.
"!!!" Frank was losing it. "Fuck you all! Shut the fuck up!!!"
Frank's face turned red, and the veins in his neck bulged as he cursed up a storm.
---
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