So, there we were in this dump of a City; juves shooting and skating all over the vehicks, and Giles in the Mercy. We've got ourselves a lock-up, two artics full of illegal shooters and chips, and a freaking police tank. Oh and our contact is in the bed next to Giles with a bullet in his fundaments.

The gang's all a bit like, on the low side - all leaking adrenaline and wondering where to go next. So ol' Mak ups and pops the boys a few more pink and drops the Chief a call to let him know the deal. Playing all Daft and keeping to the scrip the Chiefy sees my score and arranges a new contact in some local dive.

Comes to midnight and this sleaze is offering to take me in his wheels to see Mr Big. The boys are watching my back so I'm as calm as three blues. Turns out Mr Big is this Geezer with a warehouse in the city and his own gang of nutbusters packing some serious SCA's, and attitudes to match. I thinks to meself, keep up the Daft act Maky boy and you're strolling. The Geezer plays his cards and its a thou each when we deliver the crates. Yeah right, and a bullet in the back of me head 'fore the credchip hits the bottom of me pocket. And Maky don't have deep pockets.

Geezer gives us four hour to deliver so I've gotta get me box in gear and come up with a neat one to make us some real cash. And man was it a smooth one.

Coupla hours into the slot and we drop a comm-pad off at the Geezer's warehouse, and scoot. I call him and tell him I'm not as Daft as he thought. He gives me the ole lip and I drop that B'stard Gargunza's name into the chit likes its just some 'nilla topping. Could've heard a pin drop. Before he's got his jaw of the floor I tells the Geezer we want a hundred thou , and that he can bring four heavies.

He tells me he wants eight. I tell him I want two hundred thou for that. I can hear the boys behind me laughing at that one. Its getting like a betting on a Venerian Hamster race, and the finishing lines just past the next wheel. We ends up eight a side and one and three quarter thou on the table. I can taste the deal - who needs reds with this in your blood!!?

Meantime its almost dawn and we're back out with Dan and Doris re-arranging the farm again. We checks the Geezers coming outta town with one of the gang on point, and gives them the final coordinates for the drop. We've got the artics just down the road behind some trees.

Course the plan all starts looking a bit like a rusty knife when they turns up. They've sorted a spare limo and it turns out there's twenty of em all tooled up. With the sun just coming over the hills they look like extras from a Potato Western.

And Macky and the gang, what do we have? Three of us in the driveway trying to look tough - yeah right, Maky's packin a freakin gun he can't even figure how to use. Ape's over the far field with his rifle and scope and I'm thinking, cha right, like thats gonna save my hide from twenty SCA's up close 'n personal.

The Big Geezer gives me one those smiles that I give a Raptor Burger, and its all "lock 'n load attitude" on the shaded faces. He asks if this is all we've got, and wheres the gear.

I gotta say I replay the next few frames in me head a few times, just to get high - yanno?

Its like one minute its Maky and a coupla low life scum, and Geezer's thinkin we really are as Daft as we looked. Next, I tip me wink and the freakin tank just cruises through the freakin barn doors likes its a 3-D!! The ole tank winks its lil eye at Geezer dude, and I thinks "go frank your own mail" - or what!

So the deals thru in five more frames. Geezer's got his crates and Mak and the gang have a cool one hundred seventy five thou and a shiney new briefcase. I thinks to meself ... time for breakfast...sunny side up.

"I'll Make You an Offer You Can't Refuse" By Ollie Roggur

Tall Tale 4 - In which We sell the Swag for 175,000 Credits, And plan to leave Big Dog City for Cooler Climes, But no one got wasted.

Oh my hearty maties let me tell you a tale of daring confrontation, but not of do … Rather than wait for cop Frank to wake up, Doc Cpok called his boss, Lee Roughneck, Deputy Chief Plod in New Trick. Lee put us in touch with the next link in the chain. Doc called and agreed to meet the Link in a neighbouring bar, opposite the Rapid Transit Station (RTS), at midnight. Doc and I sat apart in the bar, while Dibbler and Ape watched from the RTS.

Mr Link arrived by car and took Doc north to his warehouse. We followed by hoverboard and train (hmmm - mental note: next time have back-up car), but did not join the party. Doc met The Boss, who offered Cr1,000 per head for safe delivery of cargo. Mr Link dropped him back at the bar.

After a confused debate we determined to demand Cr100,000 and make the exchange at Brookfield farm - N.E. of B.D.C. Then Doc convinced Mr Boss to pay Cr175,000, but only take 8 to the RV! He came with 20 people anyway, but the tank kept them honest! (And we told him we were with Gargunza.)

So … As we leave Brookfield Farm, we have Cr20,000 each plus Cr15,000 in common held by the Doc. We have our kit plus the hover tank and the Archer's car (unless we abandon it as we go - to be confirmed). And we have to decide our next course of action.

We know that the space station is still locked down and looking for the seven of you, but not for me. Mr Boss and his crew might make Big Dog City too hot for us, so we should leave town for a while. We are N.E. of B.D.C., More Pie is not safe, so Put Up looks good; and a road leads from there to north side B.D.C. where the space port is. We need to get Giles from the Mercy Hospital, and we need unidentifiable transport. So that's what we'll do, oh me hearty maties.

A good days work - from Sven

I had my first encounter with organised crime the other day, yeah there's loads of crime on Dibbler, but people on Dibbler couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery. After spending a day resting in BDC (Big Dog City) we started to get our asses in gear, and decided to sell these IA… chip… things. We got back in contact with the big chief in new trick, he then gets us in with our man in BDC Mr contact.

The Doc sorts out a meeting with Mr contact in a local bar for midnight. Me and the Ape Man (damn that guy likes his Cider) keep a look out by an RTS platform opposite the bar while things go down. While some green gangers start shooting each other up, the Doc walks out the bar and into a car with Mr contact, which then does a U-turn up the street. I hop on my board in pursuit, while Ollie and Ape use the RTS on the way I show a few street punk greens how to hover board, and pop a one eighty off a car, yeah ya damn right. So the Doc goes it alone to some warehouse, I met up with the rest of the boys outside the RTS, and a small scale war is going off in a local kiddies playground, so we watch, give out some advice and pointers, and wait for the Doc. Who meanwhile sorts out a steal, I mean deal with Mr contact for 1,000 creds per head and clean delivery. Yeah right, bollocks to that, so we re-arrange the deal for 100,000 creds, and the deal to be done back at Dan and Doris's farm, I love those guys.

We then up the price again, to a nice clean 175,000 creds, plus we tell them only eight stooges to come with. The asshole arrived with three cars with twenty guys armed to the teeth, but the tank with mounted SCA3 evened things up a bit, we were gonna up the price further if big boss brought more guys, but, as he noted, we had fiddled with his stuff, so we let it be. After a few minutes of watching the three cars vanish into the sunset, we leg it like buggery in the opposite direction. With 20,000 creds each in the bag, and an extra 15,000 for emergency, things are looking ok. Now how to get of this damned planet…

a tall tale - from Ape Praxis
Well actually this ones pretty straight

Let me tell you whipasnapas how we did it,

Holy Pigs Ear we made it. We got rid of all those chips and DAFT stuff and
got me hands on some untraceable?? finger licking high value money chips.
Boy I got say it I kissed every single one of those chips, the boys thought
I was crazy as Raptor in heat, but hell I was happy. (Hey did I tell you
about the time I had slew five 6 ton Raptors with only a half charged
megablast cannon and a knife when was on a safari in Savage Land in q2, no
well later tonight's the time I tell you when my all chips came in.

How'd it happen well know the first bit of the story, hey wake up Rozo
you'll miss all the good bits, wadda mean you're bored!! GET UP! fore I beat
the snot down into sorry stinking arse!

Were all holed up in beaten up warehouse in the Big Dog city or as the
locals say the big Woof. Were arguing load enough to raise a complaint from
SOL system, but is Ritchie awake? nope the guys sleeping off a bottle diet
coke and tincey pink one from the Mac da Knife, Ritchies got the stamina of a
hamsters fart.

We got one or two things to discuss, put "Giles" in regen tank or leave him
the local barbers in Mercy Hospital? We take the best option, the cheaper
deal and leave in Mercy and take a couple of swigs to wish him well, yeah
really we really did look out for each other.

Then its business what to do with the goods?

Anyways in then we go along with just delivering the goods, and get a
contact from our cop friends in Pukesville, or whatever it was called. The
meetings arranged for midnight, corny as hell but who cares, in a cheap bar,
Psychos Home, littered with a sprays of red stuff all over the floor, blood.

Mac the knife is doing the talk, he pops a daredevil pill, and he's a man
without fear. Rest of us are watching, I'm covering the front of the bar
with THE DIBBLER. It gets a bit distracting when the local juvie hoverborad
gangs get bit hot and jockeying each other, but its all just mouthing, no
action and its move on once the sirens come. Whilst I'm getting bored
watching these no brain bums I'm so desperate I get into an prolonged yadda
yadda with a member a the universal church, Gee those guys were weird let me
tell you, they got this gig that Killing's bad, crazy or what huh, talk
about left field.

Eventually Mac's contact turns up and they leave in a car, a 3186 2 litre
Ford-Honda what piece of shite, no fins no chrome no nothing, Mercy Saint
Mukul how the hell can you call a car car if ain't got fins I ask you, anyway
off they trundle of to discus the deal elsewhere. Shit, we got no wheels
so eyes hop on the local Mass Transit System, an overhead monorail jobby
that's cot a bunch of seats covered in a bunch of unidentifiable of stains!

Anyways we lose touch with the Knife which ain't such a bad thing as we end
up outside a megadon steak bar and tuck into metre steaks topped with a
bottle of moonshine as raw as 2 dollar whores ***t, spot on.

Eventually we get back to our hideout bloated and contented and Mac comes in
and tells us he's set up a deal, they pay up and pick up the goods and we
hopefully walk away with no plasma burns disfiguring our keenly sculpted
bodies.

The meetings set up for Doris and Franks Farm out east of the Big Woof for a
short whiles after The Rise, dawn. Mac, Dibbler an' Roggur, on point doin
the mouth all out in the open all vulnerable and we got Ritchie and Israel
manning the hovertank, and moi is back in the woods with a sniper rifle
cradled faithfully in my arms. Never underestimate the affection a Marian
ex or current feels for their guns. I am scanning the highway and see and a
whole mess of goons turn up in some pretty nice cars ones a 3200 6 litre
Holly Thunderbolt, I'm impressed. They come out there cars all 20 all slick
hair and slinky guns, facing our three front guys. I put the sniper sights
on them and there all cocksure and cool, my aims steady, I know the Guys
are relying on me if the deal goes sour then I hear a rustling above me and
the hairs on my neck stand up and I whirls round, is someone creeping up on
me, nope. Its much worse. Its huge motha of snake , 40 foot long and meaner
than Anything, dropping on my head outta the trees and its got fangs the size
of my hand dripping with deadly poison. There's no time to use the rifle, all
eyes got is my little old 10 inch machete and my life flashes before me.
Its desperate struggle me alone with a deadly 40 foot deadly poisonous cobra
python thing, by rights I got no chance but I ain't goin down to any vermin
human or otherwise. So I fight and wrestle like I never have, not thanking,
just actin, its an eternity and then I'm lying on the floor and the critters
dead full of knife holes.

I get up and get back to my sniper rifle and the deals down the goons are
gone, Jogger's doin some weird jig with the Dibbler, the Disney two step or
somewhat. I walk out of the woods and Mac he's calibration with a rainbow
fistful of pills and says we rich bay, and then he looks at me all messed
and breathless and asks what I been doin back there in the woods, I reply
"Surgery" and then grab a bottle of local moonshine and drain it.

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