« on: February 06, 2016, 01:55:18 am »
Back home my head still spun. What the deuce had I seen? The massive sailor dancing up a storm, gunning down nuns, Eoc DRIVING. I pulled a bottle of Miss Cleo's Jamaican ginger beer out of the icebox. It'd settle my stomach, at least.
I pondered another line, or a few dozen drinks, but put that aside. Needed to level out, maintain for later, had to be seen having a certain appreciation, a certain appetite. Part of the job. Don't just TAKE the resource, RELISH it. "Reverend" kept the straight face, so I played the unhinged one. At least until EoC was around, then we'd tag team while the other watched our asses.
I sighed, and heaved my gunny sack onto the table. Time to run some oil and a few pairs of silk knickers through the tommy, see what kind of mess the cheap ammo had left this time.