Post by Murray Jay Suskind on Mar 5, 2007 22:23:46 GMT -5
At that point Murray was wondering if he was seeing things. Exhaustion has been known to do strange things to the human mind. People in Malton always claimed that they never slept, but Murray didn't buy it for one second. He had gotten around three to four hours of sleep a day since it all started and he still thought he was going crazy. Most people wouldn't last more than a few days without any sleep at all.
He decided he might as well go with the flow. See if he could steal a full nights rest later. "Well, I guess my story is fairly simple as well. I have a few useful skills because of my time in Venautu with the Peace Corps. I didn't lose anyone too close to me. But it was hard seeing people I met over the week dropping so quickly or coming after me to kill me. I mean, most of these people were bloated, rotting corpses to start with, you know, academics with beards, guts and pasty wrinkly skin with jowls hanging off their face. I remember one guy it was impossible to tell until he was literally inches away from my face lunging at me."
He slid a pack of Camel Lights out of his bag and lit one up. "As far as sadness goes... look around us. I mean, people need to work together to take this city back, but all we do is bitch at each other and fight and talk about who's got the biggest and most durable 'gun.'" He sipped at his scotch for a second. "As far as the cheerfulness and booze go, they're hand in hand. I can't stand warm-ass British beer. Gimme a cold Leinenkugel's or a Rogue any day." He laughed for a second as he dragged on his smoke. "So, whenever I can, I just grab a bottle of whiskey or scotch and go with it. You know, to cope and all."
He stared at her martini for a second and said, "A vodka martini? Isn't that a tad cliche for someone like yourself?"
He decided he might as well go with the flow. See if he could steal a full nights rest later. "Well, I guess my story is fairly simple as well. I have a few useful skills because of my time in Venautu with the Peace Corps. I didn't lose anyone too close to me. But it was hard seeing people I met over the week dropping so quickly or coming after me to kill me. I mean, most of these people were bloated, rotting corpses to start with, you know, academics with beards, guts and pasty wrinkly skin with jowls hanging off their face. I remember one guy it was impossible to tell until he was literally inches away from my face lunging at me."
He slid a pack of Camel Lights out of his bag and lit one up. "As far as sadness goes... look around us. I mean, people need to work together to take this city back, but all we do is bitch at each other and fight and talk about who's got the biggest and most durable 'gun.'" He sipped at his scotch for a second. "As far as the cheerfulness and booze go, they're hand in hand. I can't stand warm-ass British beer. Gimme a cold Leinenkugel's or a Rogue any day." He laughed for a second as he dragged on his smoke. "So, whenever I can, I just grab a bottle of whiskey or scotch and go with it. You know, to cope and all."
He stared at her martini for a second and said, "A vodka martini? Isn't that a tad cliche for someone like yourself?"
