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Assembling the Army
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone slopes into town, looking round for likely sources of clues. the effect is slightly spoilt by a tripping-over-feet-and-sprawling-on-floor incident, but she recovers quickly and acts nonchalant.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard whistles into town, looking quite dapper in his brown leather jacket, and open purple shirt (exposing a morass of black chest hair) “Yo dudes,” he says, before pausing.
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone spies a likely suspect! she scuttles quickly out of sight, and keeps an eye on him.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard looks terribly shocked at what's just spouted from the mouth above which he's sporting a black zapata moustache, “Jeez!” he expulses, “Where's that pimp-dog, Sink?”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone, loitering near the Villagers' Huts, confers with the Local Kids. they are nearly as grubby as she, and eye her with wary admiration.
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone looks up as she hears a familiar name. “pssst” she says to the Local Kids. “Sink's a geezer. he gave me this.” she waves her fiver at them, and they ooooh with envy.
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone adds, “he's not a pimp-dog, neither.” she doesn't know this. she doesn't know what a pimp-dog is. luckily, they probably don't know either. they're village kids, not from Frinton or anything
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone is, however, persuasive. The Local Kids nod, and join her in peering suspiciously at that bloke with the toupe on his lip.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard grins, a big pearly white grin at Callia. . . “Yo dudette, have you heard the news?”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone blinks, and looks round in horror at the Local Kids. they mill about her, protective of their new leader.“whuuh?” she says. 'cause she's a good leader, see. eloquent.
The Dastardly Genteel RP Whistle strolls in through the gates, then stops dead and sniffs the air. “Oh dear. Yet again. Must step carefully. Simply do not have the time.” He starts edging around the inner wall.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard draws his Smith & Wesson Magnum Desert Eagle .44 9mm and points it at Whistle, “The thing you gotta ask yo'self is have I remembered to load this, it's the most powerful handgun in the world.”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone narrows her eyes as a toff strolls in. She signals to one of the Local Kids, who salutes (or something like it), and scoots after Whistle, to track him. in case.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard winks at Callia, and, with one hand, lifts a tip of his tashe, immediately revealing himself to her, “It's me, Bernard! I'm supposed to hand my badge into the Lootenant, but I'm not gonna. . .”
The Dastardly Genteel RP Whistle stops again, snapping his fingers in a “drat” gesture. “Yes, of course. Today of all days. Well I suppose you have my 'dead to rights', as it were.”
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard whirls back at Whistle, “Did I mention how powerful this handgun is? The Smith & Wesson Magnum Desert Eagle is handcrafted by Colombian drug-mules with metallurgy degrees from the best polytechs.”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone gasssps. “Uncle B! you joined the p'leece?” would you credit that. and to think they were willing to take him. . .
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone: The urchin tailing Whistle sidles closer . . . and closer still. And while everyone's attention is on the gun, indulges in a spot of pick-pocketing.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard whirls again (he'd better watch out, overbalancing and all that. . .) to Callia, “Callia, they want to throw me out. Take my rusty sherrif's badge. They want me to hand in my piece. Lies!”
The Dastardly Genteel RP Whistle: Indeed. I must profess to some manner of envy. Slugthrowing amarments are in alarming short supply on this otherwise splendid Island. Was hoping to rectify that at some point. Hm.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard is trying to explain, “They're setting me up. . . Those pictures of Sessine. Well, they're all fake! I've never seen his underpants! Let alone do what they said I was doing with them.”
The Dastardly Genteel RP Whistle waves his hand furiously at the urchin.“Hsst. Hsst. Off with you, grubby little rodent. Your odiferous nature is unmistakeable at sixty paces. Hsst.”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone 's eyes get wiiiide. and then suddenly narrow as she spots what her lieutenant is up to. “oy, bert, none'o'that! we're on the side of the LAW!” yup, it's a novelty for her too.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard is peering along the barrel of his gun, “Isn't it well tooled? Someone has spent time and effort creating this beauty, and I think I may have forgotten to load it.”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone 's lieutenant grumbles a bit, but accepts his Leader's Authority. he sidles back over to the group to pass on what he's learned. “'e's a right toff, that'n.” Callia nods. “make a note of it.”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone would make a note of it herself, but it's obviously beneath her dignity, as gang-leader. that and the little writing problem.
The Dastardly Genteel RP Whistle nods, then his eyes widen in something in the ballpark of delight. “Wait. Urchins! Grubby, filthy, wonderfully pliable urchins!” He swipes his hand at the scampering orphan, coming up with air.
Renegade 70s Cop Bernard sidles up to Callia, “I don't know who it is who's trying to bring me low. But you have to help me find them. . . If these polaroids go public, I'll be ruined, not least because of the skidmarks.”
Grubby Sleuth calliaphone decides to make herself scarce before there's any shooting. She and the gang of urchins retreat, to the gates, with her giving orders about “. . .fanning out, checking the stations and outposts. . .”
The Dastardly Genteel RP Whistle folds his arms and scowls at Bernard. “Now look what you made me do. Do you have any concept of how dreadfully difficult it is to procure urchins. Do you. Of course you don't. Hrm.”
The Dastardly Genteel RP Whistle 's eyes track the horde of urchins, which hold a desperate glint betraying a hint of regret. “Yes. Flee for now. We will meet again once I set more box traps. Yes. Indeed.”
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