| From: | hAPPY gUY <FSAJB3@******.BITNET> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | RoboBabe AutoSecretary Log |
| Date: | Sun, 20 Feb 1994 15:14:20 -0900 |
>>>>>[Bellevue Residence of Blair Clayton, AR rep for Muse Recordings.
A Cheverolet FamilyMan Van (Black Pearl paint, optional) with mods that
make it look like a real testosterone cranking vehicle is parked near
a gate way to teh residence. This vehicle is no fake however, a brief
system check reveals a popup turret, and multiple antipersonel SMGs.
Inside: A hardboy, obviously a gangmember or a wannabe is in the Rig tank,
a scrawny bald man is looking through a window (opaque to external viewers)
at two obvious body guards milling about by a mitsubishi Nightsky. He listens
to a headset attentively...
Jeweler: Jeweler here. In position.
Jimi Smooth: Jimi here. In position. Cobra, Takedown at your discretion.
The scrawny man, now revealed as a shaman, begins a silant chant, his eyes,
focused on the bodyguards, briefly flicker into reptillian slits, then
return to normal as the chant stops. Both bodyguards slump to the ground
completely unconcious. Two men move to the unconcious forms at speeds
that indicate extreme enhancement. They quickly check the guards, then
enter the house in a manner allowing both the most effective fire lanes and
cover.
Cobra: I am sorry Snake, but I must eat and live. To live means I must do
these things.
The shaman fidgets, obviously uncomfortable with what just occurs. A small
rat is produced from a hidden pocket. After a quick glance at the Rigtank
the rat is eaten. Whole.
Plague Rat: Not satisfied with the soy diet eh, freak? Think I wouldn't
see that in my own rig? Try that on my turf, and my boys'll use you for
a bullet stop, freak.
Smooth(In house): Cut the chatter. Rat, dose on some nitro, Cob is on
your side. Jeweler and I have targets in sight. Looks like Mr. Clayton
was presampling his escort before the party. J. Baby, ready?
Jeweler: Yes. You take the woman.
In the house: A classicly appointed bedroom. Two forms lie entangled in the
ReelSilk (TM) sheets. Giggles can be heard from the woman, a vapid redhead.
In an eyeblink two men are by the bed, recoiling from carefully placed blows.
The two forms on the bed lie very still except for the slow movement of
regular breathing.
Jeweler: I will find all of the invitations, you put them in the EnviroShower
(TM). Basilisk has set it to contain them until tomorrow morning.
Smooth carries the limp forms into an adjacent room while the Jeweler performs
with a practiced ease suggestive of much previous experience.
Smooth: Happy hottubbing folks!
Jeweler: Found them, lets roll. The first party guests will be arriving soon
to secure the most picturesque spots to pose for the evening.
Plague Rat: I really hope this gets exciting soon. You chumps are like
fuckin army bots. "Time schedules", "Target site". My ass. Lets just
go.
Get in the van.
End log update]<<<<<
-- RoboBabe AutoSecretary v2.0 <20:13:01/02-20-55>
