| From: | "Paul J. Adam" <shadowtk@********.DEMON.CO.UK> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | So it Ends |
| Date: | Mon, 22 Dec 1997 22:29:32 +0000 |
>>>>>[This is the meeting we had, for what little it's worth. I let him
think I was nearly as dumb and greedy as he was, just to get him out of
there faster.
+++++begin video
Easy's office, as a suited Japanese man - Nakamura? - walks in, followed
by Vincenzo. The Yakuza walks directly to Easy's leather chair and
almost contemptuously settles into it: Vincenzo says nothing, though his
knuckles whiten.
"So, troglobyte. How many workers can you provide for us?"
"None." Vincenzo replies. "You want slave labour, go uptown and look in
any corp enclave. Out here -"
"Here, you metahumans will work or you will starve." Nakamura smirks.
"And you will work for _us_. If you do not provide a forty-man work gang
on the morning of the second of January, we will destroy this nightclub.
If you fight us you will die. You have, troglobyte, discovered the fact
of your inferiority."
"Are you stupid enough to believe that?" Vincenzo asks, incredulous.
"Stupid? Which of us lives in a toxic hell-hole? Which of us is
grovelling before the other? Who has power of life and death over whom?
I fear your thickened Orkish cranium is occluding your brain again, if
you forget these simple facts." Nakamura leans back in the chair with a
smug smile. "With Easy dead, your funding is cut off. Without funding,
your hired security will depart, and you are on your own. Barrens
squatters, with pretensions of glory, fighting trained samurai. Your
death will not even be honourable, it will be too pointless and quick."
"So what the hell do you want with the place, corpsehandler?"
"The land will be useful. We are negotiating to have it be used. There
will be much construction and labouring work, and, ah, opportunities for
your womenfolk also." The Yakuza chuckles coarsely.
"Yeah, right. And you charge the construction work at union rate, tell
my people they work or they don't eat, and pocket the difference. You
pimp for the girls, give all the decent jobs to uptowners, and play
company-store on them too. Same shit, different century." Vincenzo
neither sounds nor looks as disgusted as he should.
"A wise man." Nakamura almost imperceptibly shifts a gear. "Of course,
we will always need shop stewards. One who understands the mood of his
people, who can help them understand the realities of their situation,
and prevent painful... misundertandings. Difficult, demanding work. Work
that would be well compensated. Work that might allow a few racially
challenged individuals to escape their handicaps."
"How well?" Vincenzo asks after a moment. Nakamura names a sum that is
probably twice what Easy pays him, and his eyes widen.
"I guess this could be an okay deal..." he says after a moment. "I mean,
without Easy we're pretty helpless. And it's you or maybe Top Dog comes
back, and he _was_ an asshole."
"A man of no breeding or education. Whereas you have overcome your
handicaps to a surprising extent, Vincenzo." Again, the bait dangled in
front of the Ork. "It appears I allowed your employer's errors to cloud
my judgement."
+++++end trideo
Okay. I say we hire Ein_Schuss to take that Nakamura fuck's head off.
Then we give anyone they send down here a real down-home Tarislar
welcome.
Suggestions?]<<<<<
-- Vincenzo <22:28:31/12-22-58>
