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The Alibi Room.
Frank was already wasted, his head spinning.
Dexter slid the spiked beer in front of him. "Frank, have a drink on me."
Frank didn't hesitate for a second. He didn't ask why. He just grabbed the glass and chugged it down in one go. Gulp, gulp, gulp. "Thanks. Hit me again?"
Dexter smiled and called out to Kevin. "Drinks are on me tonight! Open bar for everyone! Drink until you drop!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the barflies erupted in excited cheers.
Kevin was a little confused. "Dexter, what's the occasion? Something good happen?"
Dexter glanced at Bianca with a smile, then answered Kevin. "Yeah, the location for the shooting range is finally locked in. Celebrating that."
Kevin was a guy's guy; he was interested in guns. "Congrats! That is definitely worth celebrating. Once you get that place set up, I gotta come down and practice my aim."
Dexter grinned. "What are you practicing for? Don't scare yourself, Kev."
Kevin: "???? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Haha," Dexter chuckled.
Just then.
The potion kicked in.
All the pain Peggy had been enduring was instantly transferred to Frank.
Frank's ugly, aged face suddenly twisted in agony. He curled up into a ball. "Jesus! It hurts!"
Frank screamed at the top of his lungs.
Seeing this, Kevin, Dexter, Tommy, and the others all turned to look at Frank.
"Frank?" Kevin asked, confused.
Frank grit his teeth and wailed, "Kevin! Did you give me beer or poison?! Why the fxxk am I in so much pain?!"
"Fxxk off!" Kevin shot back instantly, too lazy to deal with Frank's drama. He went back to pouring drinks for the happy customers.
Dexter flashed a bright smile, looked away, and went back to chatting with Bianca.
At the same time.
The Gallagher House.
Peggy, who was sitting on the sofa drinking a beer and watching TV, suddenly felt all the pain in her body vanish. She felt incredibly light. Her first instinct was that her condition had worsened to the point where her nerves were dead, which confused her.
Driven by confusion, Peggy quickly put down her beer and pinched her arm hard.
Ouch!
So, she could still feel pain.
Then what the hell was going on?
Peggy couldn't figure it out. After thinking for a moment, she stood up and started walking around silently.
Carl watched her, confused. "Grandma, what are you doing?"
Peggy didn't stop. she walked toward the stairs. "I suddenly felt like walking."
One step, two steps, three steps...
Going up the stairs was effortless.
This was fxxking weird.
Did the doctors get it wrong? Do I not have cancer? Peggy considered the possibility, but quickly dismissed it. The pain she had felt for so long wasn't fake.
Peggy couldn't make sense of it. Unconsciously, she walked into her room and flipped on the light.
The light flooded the room.
A second later.
Peggy stopped thinking about her health. Her eyes turned ferocious.
As a former drug dealer, paranoia and alertness were instinctual.
She saw immediately that her room had been tossed. And she knew instantly that Frank, that bastard, had done it!
"Heh. Trying to steal my money while hoping I die sooner!"
Earlier that evening at the Alibi, when she heard Frank say those things, she had been in too much pain and too weak to bother dealing with him...
Now?
The pain was gone. She had energy to burn!
Heh.
Peggy smiled coldly.
It was time to settle the score with Frank. It was time to let him know exactly who his mother was.
With that thought in mind, Peggy turned and walked back downstairs.
The money wasn't in the room, so she didn't need to check anything.
She returned to the first floor and sat back down next to Carl.
"Carl," Peggy said with a smile. "You share a room with three other boys. Is it miserable?"
Carl had been sick of the sleeping arrangements for ages. He desperately wanted to live somewhere else. He nodded furiously. "Miserable! totally miserable!"
Peggy smiled. "Do you want your own room?"
"Of course!!" Carl nodded again, eager.
"How about I go rent a house, and you come live with Grandma? You can have your own room," Peggy proposed.
Ding.
For ten years, Carl had never had his own room.
Faced with such a golden opportunity, Carl beamed instantly. "Yes!"
As soon as the word hung in the air.
In the dining room, Fiona, who had been eavesdropping with her ears pricked up, felt her head start to buzz. Her expression changed drastically!
Fiona was about to lose it. She rushed into the living room and screamed at Peggy without holding back. "Peggy! You are not taking Carl!!!"
After yelling at Peggy, Fiona turned on Carl. "Carl, you can't go live somewhere else!!"
Finally, something good happens to him, and Fiona comes to ruin it? She won't allow it?
Instantly, Carl's face went cold. He glared at Fiona. He stared at her hatefully for two seconds, didn't say a word, then turned to Peggy and smiled. "Grandma, when do we go rent the house?"
Buzz... Buzz... Buzz...
Hearing this, Fiona's head spun even harder. She felt dizzy.
By now, Lip and Debbie had joined Fiona.
Lip's anger, which was always simmering just below the surface, finally erupted. "Peggy! What the fxxk are you trying to do?"
"You are not taking Carl!"
Since the afternoon, Debbie had hated Carl.
But now, the hate turned into sadness. Her eyes turned red, and tears threatened to spill. "Carl, don't go. We're a family..."
Family.
What a funny concept.
In this moment, if Carl were a normal kid, he might have been moved by Debbie's reaction.
Unfortunately, ten-year-old Carl was not a normal kid.
Carl looked at Debbie, his expression cold and serious. "I want my own room. I don't want to squeeze into that room anymore."
Fiona heard this through her haze.
Ding.
Fiona, who had previously forced the issue and made Liam move into Carl's room to appease Debbie, finally realized the room was the key. She hurriedly spoke, trying to suck up to Carl.
"Carl, I'll figure out a way to arrange a room for you. Just for you. Okay?"
Carl perked up.
The truth was, if he could have his own room at the Gallagher house, he didn't necessarily want to leave. Deep down, Carl still had a soft spot for his family.
"Where?" Carl finally spoke to Fiona.
Fiona felt a glimmer of hope. Her mind raced. She glanced at the stairwell, then looked toward the backyard. "You can stay in that beat-up van in the backyard for a while. Think of it like camping. How about that?"
Hearing this.
"????" Peggy couldn't believe her ears.
Let Carl, a ten-year-old kid, sleep alone in a broken van outside at night?
Was she joking?
Wasn't the whole point about treating Carl and Debbie fairly?
Debbie already had her own room, but Carl only got to sleep alone in a junked van?
"So much for 'fair treatment,'" Peggy couldn't help but mock her.