13th July 2071
[no time stamp]
What have I gotten myself into?
You know, ever since I stopped doing day-by-day business, by which I mean making sure to see the next sunrise, life has become a mess of actual organization and planning in advance.
Considering everything that lies ahead, I gotta start somewhere and that was coming clean with the Gypsies. This deal bothered me right from the start and it was time to negotiate something more favorable for both parties. There’s no good way of saying this and that’s what I told them, as we sat at that table in the Squatter's Mall: the deal’s off, but we may work together in the future.
They agreed, said ‘let’s bury the deal’, translating roughly to ‘you’re fucked’ in Gypsy-speak.
What they failed to realize was that this time they didn’t get the jump on me.
I wasn’t alone, and they didn’t have a hostage so I didn’t have to hold back.
They still had a troll.
Word around the Mall is, Ramrod was a pretty hot boxer once, and Spirits, that’s an understatement if I’ve ever seen one. He shrugged off punches I actually DID deck other trolls with…
And while I was busy breaking Gypsy-arms, poor Stan got to enjoy the beautiful experience of face-tanking a grown-ass troll.
After his three friends were down, I talked some sense into Ramrod.
People sometimes think trolls are idiots. Never make the mistake to confuse “simple” for “stupid”. Trust me on this one.
He understood that those guys were bad company and probably just using him for their own ends. All he wanted was some chocolate. And that’s something I gladly gave him, with a good job perspective on top.
Befriending trolls isn’t that easy, they tend to be loners. But I think we’re on a good way here.
We stripped the Gypsies clean, left them with their vests, boots and a knife, just as etiquette out here demands.
Sometimes, things work out like that.
In not so happy news, Screech’s gone.
Wait, that sounds horrible. I mean, he had a bad relapse. His cancer’s back and he had to sell the joint and his hardware to get treatment and one last vacation with his wife.. Fuck, I never knew he had a wife.
He’s in Tir right now and hopes he gets to see San Francisco while he’s still alive.
Spirits, it hurt seeing the old badger like that. Treatment’s 30k, I can afford it, so fuck the money. He earned himself some more good days and I’ll be damned if I let the Zone get him.
Still, logistics will be a nightmare without him, even with the little black book he gave me.
Speaking of which… Time for some calls.