Circe stared at Leon. The mortal was smugly smiling back across the alcove table they sat at within a shitty bar. The Summer wasn't sure if the mortal was proud of his idea or of the stunned expression he go onto her face.


"I'm sorry, can you repeat that. I think I had a stroke," Circe rubbed her ears, "or just voices in my head that are lying."


The chuckle from Leon meant he had enjoyed her expression. "A movie. I'm gonna make one," the man seemed proud.


"Fanculo why?" was the first thing the Summer could think to blurt out.


"Cam. Mo. Flage." the mortal was beaming as he quoted a previous conversation with Circe. "And you have connections to make it work."


Circe looked at him in horror. "You have got to be joking. I am not THAT connected!" She didn't bother to keep her voice down, "and that's a fuck ton of paper trail. Like lots."


Leon glared at her, "Ya think I ain't thought of that. Shitty movies get made all the time. It'll be a great front set up. Get some props. Cross south with fake come back with real, easy swap."


"And what happens when customs checks it? Or, wait, where the fuck did you get this idea?" Circe was gripping the table as she leaned across it to get in Leon's face. Because this sounded familiar.


"What? Nobody looks into shit movies. There's too damn many made around here," Leon leaned back in the booth, trying to get away from the suddenly scary Italian. He'd call her sexy but right now she was just scary.


"Where. Did. You. Get. This. Idea." The Summer was almost nose to nose with the mortal now, her eyes cold and hard as he tried to look away.


"Uh. Okay. Ya see babe, I got drunk watched this movie, and-" Circe cut him off, "If its Mel Brooks do you recall how it ended?"


"Yeah it, uh," Leon was squirming a lot now. "Oh."


Circe finally leaned back, "Yeah. Oh. Very big oh. I told ya how to minimize risk with the props. You," this time it was Leon who cut Circe off, "And what the fuck else am I supposed to do? I got a shit ton of fake guns. Toys. What do I do with a shit ton of rubber toys?!"


That caught some attention from a lot of people. The way he'd said it could be interpreted in a variety of ways. Circe shook her head at the mortal's idiocy over this. "Well a brothel is an option for rubber toys. Or E-bay."


Leon froze as he quietly said: "What?"


Circe gave him a look best described as: bitch please. But at least he was quieter now, "You sell them. I figured you'd make a profit on the side disposing of the props. Sell 'em to shitty movies, collectors, or recycling joints that'll take 'em in bulk. Or whatever."


Silence followed. After a full minute had passed Circe said,"You. You didn't think on that at all, did ya?" Circe banged her head down on the table, "Fuck me."


Their table was silent for a while after that. Then Circe got up, "Uh, Circ? We uh," Circe held up a hand, "Never had this conversation. Nope," and she left before Leon hurt her brain more.