What's in a name?

“So. Repo Guy. Do you have a name?” Zeus. The Hulk. Juggernaut. All of these seem appropriate and expected.

“Name’s Kiefo, little man.” Martin already feels strange riding in the back of the moving truck sitting on his own couch, feeling every bump in the city streets as they roll toward their first victim as a team. The strangeness is amplified by the two large men on either side of him, Rico and Kiefo, who looked poised to crush him if he makes a wrong move. Add into all this that Repo Man’s name is Kiefo. This name is too much.

“Kiefo? Jesus. Was that the name carved on the shaft of the spear they gave you when you-“ A quick punch to the arm from Rico cuts Martin’s racism short. Ow.

“Watch what you’re saying, ese. Kiefo’s the boss around here.” King of the moving van? What a huge deal.

“That’s right, little man. You keep your damn ignorance to yourself or I’ll leave you on the street near some boys who I know will treat you real nice.” The two brutes seem satisfied with their display of dominance.

“Well, as it is I like to keep my male interactions strictly professional, but I’d absolutely take you up on that if I were into dudes.” Neither of Martin’s couchmates are particularly amused by his antics, but the driver lets out a chuckle. Martin: 1, Brutes: 0.

“Anyhow.” Repo Man is a tank, built to brush off silly implications with ease. “Kiefo’s short for Kiefer. If that one’s easier on your white bread brain, have at it. It’s all yours. Now Martin, we should be pulling up to our next delinquent soon, and that job’s gonna be all yours.” What is that fucking grin? It’s unsettling. Kiefo is grinning at Rico like they’re about to sodomize Martin for a few hours.

“How can it be all mine? Do they just have small stuff?” At this point, Martin’s just hoping he doesn’t have to take anything from a guy as large as the brutes.

Kiefo hands Rico his clipboard. Martin tries to steal a glance, but no such luck. As Rico glances up and down the clipboard, a wide smile stretches out beneath his gloriously thick moustache. “Naw, man, next one’s auto.” Rico is annoyingly happy.

“Otto?”

“Automobile, man. This lady’s behind on her loan payments. That new car’s gonna have to go back.”

“Pulling up to the labs, Kiefo!” At this cue, Kiefo stands up and grabs onto a strap near the opening between the front and back of the van.

“Labs?” Not…Peterson Labs? Please not Peterson Labs.

“Alright, Martin, you ready to make Ms. Jenkins pay her dues?” Martin’s eyes visibly widen. Shit. Honestly, he never could have predicted this, but perhaps he should have thought for a second longer when he was given the opportunity to repossess things for the day. Hilda wasn’t going to be very happy; she had just gotten that car.