Producing a worn silver lighter from his back pocket, with 'FEAR' as its front label read an accurate description none the less. Since his very looks was intimidating enough, but pulling the cigarette from his ear and stuck it in his mouth. Observing around him as he lit the stick, watching since dog eat dog wasn't exactly the right saying for the current standings. Taking the first drag, watching the fire before returning it to the back pocket. Though as he was an older homeless man with both the age and obsession to the powder all too apparent, tried to steal it. "Get the hell away!" It was never too early to make some quick cash but never, someone trying to steal his stuff for a fix was beyond acceptable. Backhanding him and the old man lay at his feet Scott crouched down. "Try that crap again I will light you like a damn Christmas tree using that damn lighter. Go get your cash else where and I will have it." Kicking him once before turning his back, returning by his trailer.
Theft really wasn't an issue for him since his entire trailer was a gas tank that could spark in an instant. From the meth lab in the back to the high grade fuel for his favorite toy, a single match and it would go off like a bomb. Stealing a beer from a neighbor who had foolishly left a fresh cooler out, a generic but still it was better than nothing has the summer sun blistered. Thankfully dusk was at hand to make it bit bearable and a bit more lively. Better for business and much more lively, actually preferring the night time activities.
Looking to his left thinking he saw something scuttle, but leaving it alone. Probably one the brats wandering up to some nonsense, leaving it to that but something wasn't right about it. Nodding to Mark, a rival but in this place with all the junkies a rival was pretty meaningless since it seemed they wanted more than could be supplied. Roxy well being a man he had his illicit wants, but threw the gossip he decided to keep away, paranoid by crime outside of the trailer park. Taking another drag from his cigarette, finishing it off and stomped it. "Got the gun Hal." Scott couldn't remember if Hailey hated that name but regardless it didn't matter to him. Needing something for personal protection since his flamethrower wasn't so handy all the time. A Beretta would be more appropriate, but he always loved to use the fire. Fumbling threw pocket for the cash waiting.