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Part 3
Mon Aug 13, 2018 9:32am

This is based on the control prompt "One agent tries to convince another to help with some kind of business venture."

As bases of operations went, Response Center 9-unreadable-smudge wasn’t among the best. To be fair, it had floor space, but most of it was occupied. This occupying force was led by a vanguard of random trash, with specialist support provided by the remains of shelves, and an armored division of broken machinery interspersed the ranks, as if to cow would-be cleaners into submission. On the edge of this cave of non-wonders was a small circle where the debris had been cleared, occupied by reptilian gunslinger Rasputin Gibbs and his human associate, Colonel Caleb Bradbury. After a long silence, the Colonel spoke:


“So?” Replied the lizard-man.



For a few moments, both considered the conversation, then Bradbury took the initiative: “Shall we keep talking in circles like co-dependent parrots, or shall we occupy our time with something more likely to bear fruit?”

“Bear fruit? Isn’t that the one that mauls people?” asked Gibbs.

“Yes, but you can drive it off by throwing zucchinis at it,” replied Bradbury.


“Yes, I once heard a story about a Russian woman who, when menaced by a bear that had broken into her home, chased it out by throwing several zucchinis at it,” said Bradbury, as if what he had just said made some sort of sense.

“Anyway, what is this dumb scheme that you have in mind?”

“Alcohol. It’s the best bartering commodity we can feasibly get, and our key into this place’s informal power structure. By making it right here in HQ we can undercut the prices of any competitor. Also, liquor taxes are for chumps.” As Bradbury spoke, he waved his hands in the air like some kind of TV alien hunter.

“Hmm… Have you done this before, or are we going to blind our coworkers?” asked the skeptical lizard-man.

“It’s fine. I learned how to do this years ago. We just need water, sugar, and yeast. I once did this with bread mold and ketchup.”

“That must be sheer murder on the humors,” said Gibbs, obviously disgusted.

“Don’t worry, I’m never doing that again.”

“So how do we make this happen?”

“I think there’s a general store somewhere in HQ. You can probably get stuff there,” said the human. “You head over there, I’ll try to find this alleged ‘console’ thing.”

“It’s your funeral.”

The lizard-man left, and several hours passed. When he returned, he could see that the Colonel’s attempts at his Sisyphean task had been in vain.

“I’m back!” shouted Gibbs as he opened the door, burlap sack in hand.

“Any luck?” asked Bradbury as he attempted to move an overturned oil drum whose presence in the RC must have made sense to someone at some point.

“Yeah, they had a good deal on baking stuff.” As he spoke, he placed an object on the floor next to the man: “Also, I got a bottle of whiskey, ‘cause it seems like this is gonna take a while.”

  • Part 261516, Mon Aug 13 9:27am
    This is based on the control prompt "we see both agents recruited." Colonel Caleb Bradbury, veteran of thirty years and uncounted battles, was having a very confusing day. He guessed that he had... more
    • Part 3 — 61516, Mon Aug 13 9:32am
      • Um... hm.Huinesoron, Mon Aug 13 10:23am
        Okay, so here's my thoughts: -I recognise you, you've participated here, all good on that front. -Your spelling is generally okay, though your punctuation is a bit erratic: '“So?” Replied the... more
        • Ok, I'll be back in under 1000 words. (nm)61516, Mon Aug 13 11:36am
          • Well here we are...61516, Sun Sep 9 9:50pm
            Rasputin Gibbs would have felt a lot better about life if he had known where he was, but the featureless corridors of the PPC headquarters seemed intent on getting him lost. On the plus side, Colonel ... more
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