Part XIV: Cash Money Brothers

Well, here we still are.

Still camping on ChillOut Island and still earning an easy, but taking-forever, buck. My goal is $15 in order to infiltrate a roll-play site and observe fellow nerds in some Trek on Trek action. I'm earning $2 for every 25 minutes I sit on this uncomfortable bench. Our punk rocker friend is long gone so we must endure alone. Know any good tunes, Torchy?

We wait...

And we wait...

And we wait some more....until...finally...

Yea! I made $8! And it only took 100 minutes of patient pot smoking! That wasn't so bad.

Oh wait, I still need $7 more. Crud. It looks like the bench boots you off after every $8. I guess we'd better hop back on and "earn" the rest. Stupid Welfare Island. If they hadn't cheated me, I would only need $3 more. I'll spare you the screen shots for the next $8, or 100 minutes.

But! There's an interesting end to all this sitting around. Unfortunately it all happened very quickly and I did not get any pictures of it.

So, I get done collecting the rest of my cash money brothers and I'm starting to walk out the door when this guy jumps in the room. He was either The Shadow or V from V For Vendetta. I couldn't tell for sure because the guy was hop-skipping around the joint like some tripping jester.

I started to ignore him and carry on but then he stops bouncing around for a second to ask, I presume me and the only other camper in the room, where the "zans scripts" were. Since the other camper seemed too baked to offer a response, I responded for the both of us with, "Huh?"

Then, all of a sudden, the little jester bastard hits me with a harpoon! I rocket across the room only to slam into the wall. I yell (in hindsight it might have not been the smartest thing to yell), "Hey, you bouncing bastard, I'm the one who does the harpooning around here!" I went to my inventory to put on my hand attachment and show this Guy Fucks what for.

Before I could even get to my weapons folder, this masked assailant picks me up and all of a sudden I'm either flying in orbit or wadding at the bottom of the sea. I'm falling/swimming in a blue limbo for what seemed like five minutes before I crashed into the shoreline of some other island. Goddamn, did we piss off The Shadow or what?

Torchy responds with, "We?"

I pulled out my largest assault rifle, donned my harpoon and teleported back to ChillOut Island with a quickness only to find the room empty except for the other lone camper that was there. She was still sitting on the bench and seemed unmolested by the masked douche. I ran up to her and exclaimed, "Which way did he go?! Did you get that bastard's name?! I'll kill him!!"

She said, "Dude, he mumbled something about "another pawn off the board" and flew off." She apologized for not getting his name but said she attempted no interaction after what she saw him doing to me. I told her I understood and thanked her.

If I ever run into you again, you prancing turd, we are going to have us some words. Right after I put a cap in your ass. I'll be keeping my eye out. Torchy says he hopes those "zans scripts" you're after gives you tuberculosis of the crotch.

Well said, my friend.

Anyway, with all anger aside, I can now continue my mission...

I beam over to The Shipyard and fill out my application. I ended up going with "medical officer" for my career of choice. This one seemed to have the most freedom, aside from the engineering sector but they seem to do a lot more work and bidding for the higher-ups. Screw that. I wanted to be as autonomous as possible but still interact with people in a roll-play.

There. I've read all the rules, I've got my money and I've dropped my application in the box. Hopefully, the admins are quick on getting back to you. Hopefully.

Now, the only thing to do is wait. Yet again...

...