Up from the Bottom, Wipe Those Tears and Pass the Ammo Options

[adamu]

Crusher 495
Thursday 8/14/70 18:55:43

It was still light out and the winds off the sound never seemed to make it all the way inland to Redmond, so it was hot. Too damned hot to be wearing a Kevlar-reinforced business suit.
Crusher 495 was the only open business for blocks. Whether anything human or even remotely sentient lurked in the dilapidated buildings surrounding it was anybody's guess. Nothing moved.
But in front of the bar itself, plenty was going on. An ork woman that looked as though she might have leprosy stood by impassively as her pimp, a huge troll with gold-tipped horns and a leopard-skinned suit, negotiated her price with a gaggle of five pasty, underfed humans in rags. Who knew what they were planning to exchange for her.
About five meters on the other side of this scene, another troll bellowed in agony as three orks beat it mercilessly, one stomping repeatedly on its face while another kicked it over and over and over in the testicles.

The damned Evo suit was drawing more attention than anything else, though.

The front doors were flung wide, as they had been during the earlier visit. The pool tables looked busy, and inside the place was a cloud of smoke and the smell of beer and beer vomit.

Outside the booth-fort, the same two trolls in flak jackets with shotguns stood chatting. And it looked like more than one troll would be getting a job as hired muscle for the Mafia tonight....