Post by 23skidoo on Aug 14, 2008 9:51:26 GMT -5
Away from the crowds, away from the carnage. It’s been a quiet spell by recent standards but the wolf is never far from the door.
This report comes from the broken town of Molebank, famous mostly for its high concentration of Necrotech offices and giant mole statues that proliferate the parks and cemeteries. I entered the place with guns loaded and hope expended. Would there still be anyone out fighting on the frontiers?
The answer was ‘yes’, primarily a bunch of good folks that go by the name ’10 Minutes From Hell’. My only problem with them was that their collective watches were about 10 minutes slow, other than that this was an impressive outfit.
I met with their leader, Lois Millard, who, after checking out my credentials (it’s amazing what I’ll do for a story these days) agreed to let me hang out and do a little brain picking. These guys and galls are like the Gorillas in the Mists of Molebank. They don’t do head on unless they have too, much more a ‘softly softly catchee monkey’ type of operation. Every building I crashed in had a couple of members, every morning I woke up they’d reclaimed another building. And let me tell you, thats no easy fix out here. I spent about 16 hours clearing out one little bar, just to find that the taps were dry. 16 HOURS! A man can father 15 children, play a round of golf and file his tax return in 16 hours, so believe me, the sacrifice they’re making is no small thing.
I got chatting with Taloula Belle for a while, another Dr that knows how to take care of herself. I’m starting to see a pattern forming here, maybe I should have tried med school instead of cocktail school. Anyway, I didn’t make any moves as I’m still naked ,‘cept for the gas mask and helmet,and that can be a little off putting on a first date. Soon as I find some clothes I’m going to find that lady and buy her a nice seafood dinner.
So, if you’re stopping by, be sure and give them 10 Minuters a bit of your time.
That it for now, I’m following my nose into Owsleybank to see what’s cooking there. My old Proffesor, Dr Hoffman, used to talk about a man named Owsley, maybe he’s still in town.
Until next time Malton, lock that door and try not to snore!
This report comes from the broken town of Molebank, famous mostly for its high concentration of Necrotech offices and giant mole statues that proliferate the parks and cemeteries. I entered the place with guns loaded and hope expended. Would there still be anyone out fighting on the frontiers?
The answer was ‘yes’, primarily a bunch of good folks that go by the name ’10 Minutes From Hell’. My only problem with them was that their collective watches were about 10 minutes slow, other than that this was an impressive outfit.
I met with their leader, Lois Millard, who, after checking out my credentials (it’s amazing what I’ll do for a story these days) agreed to let me hang out and do a little brain picking. These guys and galls are like the Gorillas in the Mists of Molebank. They don’t do head on unless they have too, much more a ‘softly softly catchee monkey’ type of operation. Every building I crashed in had a couple of members, every morning I woke up they’d reclaimed another building. And let me tell you, thats no easy fix out here. I spent about 16 hours clearing out one little bar, just to find that the taps were dry. 16 HOURS! A man can father 15 children, play a round of golf and file his tax return in 16 hours, so believe me, the sacrifice they’re making is no small thing.
I got chatting with Taloula Belle for a while, another Dr that knows how to take care of herself. I’m starting to see a pattern forming here, maybe I should have tried med school instead of cocktail school. Anyway, I didn’t make any moves as I’m still naked ,‘cept for the gas mask and helmet,and that can be a little off putting on a first date. Soon as I find some clothes I’m going to find that lady and buy her a nice seafood dinner.
So, if you’re stopping by, be sure and give them 10 Minuters a bit of your time.
That it for now, I’m following my nose into Owsleybank to see what’s cooking there. My old Proffesor, Dr Hoffman, used to talk about a man named Owsley, maybe he’s still in town.
Until next time Malton, lock that door and try not to snore!