Quoted By:
“No.” Replies the masked guard behind the bulletproof window. Oh come <span class="mu-i">on</span>, you hiss through clenched teeth, <span class="mu-i">seriously,</span> Paul?!
“Yep.” Shrugs the quartermaster from the safety of his stupid depot booth! “And it’s <span class="mu-i">Paulo</span>.”
B-but, you stammer, glancing between him and your entourage waiting behind you, y-you brought the whole gang! And you need <span class="mu-s">STUFF!</span>
“Well then that wasn’t a very smart idea, now was it?” Paulo asks as he taps away at a shipping console partially buried beneath a heap of forms, old coffee cups, and other similar debris.
He helped you out before, though! Come on, be… be a <span class="mu-i">PAL</span>-O again!
“Only did it before as a favor to Mitz.” He counters, sending a polite wave to the Rent-A-Cop in question as she barely glances up from her <span class="mu-b">WATER POLO MONTHLY</span> magazine. “Rules are rules.”
“And bullshit is <span class="mu-i">BULLSHIT!</span>” Talbot roars as he stomps over and slams his fists on the counter next to you! “We’re risking our butts for you pen-pushers and you can’t even help!? Do we gotta fill out a <span class="mu-i">FORM</span> for you guys to act human, or somethin’!?”
“I mean, I have a few here if you wanna get started on them.” Paolo grunts as he presses a handful of complex-looking documents against the glass.
“That’s it. This booth’s goin’ <span class="mu-i">bye-bye</span>!” Talbot growls before being placed into a chokehold by Tucker!
“Before T does something we all regret,” Tucker grunts, fighting to restrain the rabid janitor, “would someone please explain <span class="mu-i">why</span> we can’t requisition anything?”
“<span class="mu-i">Procurement Clause</span>.” Art explains. “Boss told Stan that we can loot and keep whatever we find outside, but we have to leave company resources for, well, the company.”
“Wait, <span class="mu-i">really?</span>” Eddie asks with wide eyes! “What the heck are we doing here, then?”
“I was pondering that myself, actually.” Paolo replies, barely looking up from his console monitor. “If you’re done messing around, would you mind stepping aside? Got an actual customer waiting in line. Took a number from the machine and everything.”
Following the quartermaster’s gaze, you find yourselves staring at a petite, but fully-armored <span class="mu-g">SECURITY GOON</span> waiting quietly behind your crowd next to a red ‘<span class="mu-i">TAKE-A-NUMBER</span>’ machine.
“<span class="mu-i">Err, t-take your time! Heheh…</span>” She mutters, white-knuckling a small paper ticket in her trembling hands.
“<span class="mu-i">N-no, p-please,</span>” Denise squeaks, suddenly reminding you that she exists, “<span class="mu-i">Go ahead.. heheh…</span>”
“<span class="mu-s">BEAT IT, TWERPS!</span>” Talbot roars as he fights to escape Tucker’s hold! “Don’t think I forgot about what I owe ya’!”
Watching both twerps recoil in fear, a part of you almost wants to let Talbot go… but your consciousness stops you. You don’t wanna get kicked out, after all!
“Your capacity fer’ basic empathy is sterling as always, cupcake.”
Thanks!
>CONTD.
