It must be the end of the world. You wake up from the previous night’s shenanigans with only a few new bruises and notice an unexpected brightness in the room you crashed in. You recall the thrill of magic, last days fireball and bridge explosion with some pride. Hell, its all over the news already. So much for laying low, but again, it was Beast and Luke who promised that shit to the new OU leader.
A quick peak outside reveals something seldom seen in the sprawl: the sun! Maybe, for the first time in who-knows-how long, Seattle may actually be able to dry out a bit from the perpetual precipitation it’s accumulated over the last … how long has it been? Maybe you could catch a few rays on the roof or … Before you can finish that though, you’re interrupted by an incoming call on your ‘link. Recognizing the number, you activate the vid screen to see the face of fucking Eddy McLain staring back at you with his normal hangover talk-business-to-me look on his face.
“Got some work, if you’re interested. Seems a contact of mine – Mr. Johnson’s in need of a quick fix. The money is especially good for this kinda’ job like this because it’s a rush. Johnson’s a bit on the desperate side, though. And a desperate Johnson is a dangerous Johnson, so be careful. Still, you may be able to use it and squeeze a bit more out of him. If you’re interested, be at Cuppa Joe’s just off I-5 in Tacoma in about two hours. Ask the half-slag behind the counter for a tall ‘Regular Joe’ and a cheese danish. Do what he says and he’ll point ya out to Johnson when he shows. Oh, and don’t forget to tip well.”
Yep, so much for enjoying the sun.