I was on the moguyacht. Well, I arrived on it after shit hit the fan. It was just me and my boys Lamb Chop and Uncle Ruckus. We dropped from the helicopter assault rifles in hand and landed in the midst of a violent drug fueled orgy. There was blood, feces and other bodily fluids everywhere. A lot of them were foaming at the mouth. They screamed like lunatismcs and bum rushed us. Bad idea. It took a while (and a gratuitous waste of clips) for the entire team to sweep the place and clear out all the valuables, all for the grace and glory of dear old Aunt Samantha. Once we cleaned off and salvaged what we could, the entire godforsaken vessel was dispose of quietly. I still remember the smell. It smelled like a cocktail of death and degeneracy. Luckily my GME calls paid off and I settled into an early retirement. Not sure where Lamb and Ruckus wound up, but I wouldn't be surprised if they kept having to clean up after that type of crazy. You know the type. They have more money than sense, and only ever make the kinds of messes the public can't ever know about.
