[MM2e] Salton City Needs Heroes! Episode 1: Premiere

[Relique du Madde]

WARNING: This game is not for the easily offended. It will contain bizarre (and sometimes adult) situations, crude attempts at humor, adult themes, internet memes, satire, and BAD WRONG FUN. In short, this game is guaranteed to offend those with high standards of decency and might derailing itself in a magnificent train wreck while poking fun at comic book, super heroic, and reality tv motifs/tropes. In other words, it's going to be a hell of a game.






Two weeks ago.
My Tea Productions: New Hope City, California.

“I told you to pick our heroes by noon. It’s already Three o’clock. Thanks to all of your incompetence production has already been pushed back five hours.” Richard Diceman, the Producer of Salton City NEEDS a Hero, crossed his arms with displeasure. “Explain to me why I should not fire all of you...”

Richard Diceman’s first intern, a balding overweight man with bad hygiene, stood up from his seat. “Mr. Diceman, sir. You are a genius and I worship the ground you walk on and I want to have your baby… I mean if I was a girl I’d want to have your baby! You should keep me since I’d do anything for you, hell, I even bought your daughter Michelle a birthday present for you last week…”

“It’s son. I have a son, not a daughter. His name is Mitchell, not Michelle. Also, you bought Mitchell a copy of ‘Are you There God? It’s me, Margaret,’ and you put the present in my name. So because of your stupidity he is not talking to me. You are a worthless brown nosing idiot and you are fired, so get out of my office. Next.”

“But I…”

“You heard me, I said ‘next.’”

The second intern, a long blond-haired tan-skinned man, glanced down at the pile of pictures before him. He grinned as he picked up a picture of a Japanese girl dressed in a sailor suit. “Dude, you have to check her out, she’s totally your type. You should cast her….”

“Good job, Cory. You may stay.”

“Awesome, dude.”

“Next.”

The third intern, a freckled red haired man in his early twenties smiled confidently as he leaned back in his chair. “You wouldn’t fire me. I’m your brother.”

“As much as I love nepotism, I have to break the sad news to you: You were adopted. Mom and dad never liked you, and they purposely did not show up at you graduation and they purposely forgot about your 6th, 12th, 16th, 18th and 21st birthdays. You are also fired.”

“What?!?”

“You are deaf? Did I stutter? I said, and I repeat, you are fired. Next victim.”

The next intern placed a pill case onto the table and opened it. “You know, I didn’t want to bring this up, but I know a pharmacist who can hook you up with anything you want. No questions asked and no prescription needed.”

“I’ll give you a list. If you fail to deliver anything I place on it within 24 hours, you will not be allowed into this building. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. Now, Millie, since you are last, what do you have to say?”

Milly, a slender buxom mousy haired girl smiled nervously before saying, “I’m the daughter of a major studio exec. I’m pretty and he loves me more then his other children. If you fire me, you will be black listed and will never have a show on a major network within the United States again.”

Richard smirked, “Then you can stay.” After a brief moment he glanced to his ex-interns. “I want you losers to leave this building right now. Seriously, get out. If I see any of you on a security camera in ten minutes I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. Now, as for the rest of you, I want you to tack twenty of those photos onto the wall. It doesn’t matter who you choose, just place them on the wall. I’m going to do the same thing that all of you should have done hours ago.” Richard walked over to his dart board then grabbed five darts. “I’m going to let fate decide the remainder of our show’s cast...”


Last Wednesday..
My Tea Productions: New Hope City, California.

Emily Holland, the associate producer of Salton City NEEDS Heroes, walked into Richard Diceman’s office in a panicked manor. “Richard, we have a code red situation… The mayor wants to hand over our cast’s headquarters to another hero on Monday. He said that he could not wait two more weeks for production to start within his city. He needs a hero now!”

Richard crossed his arms in displeasure. “If he wants to play hard ball with me, then let him. Call our lawyers and we’ll sue that bastard’s city for breach of contract. Then we’ll ruin his and his city’s reputation and ensure the world’s greatest anarchist super villains come and rain havoc upon his worthless ball of alkaline dirt. Then let’s see if his populace will allow him to stay in office until the next election. When I’m done with him, he will wish he never brought upon Richard Diceman wrath!”

Emily frowned, “Richard, wouldn’t it be easier to contact our associates in Asia, Europe and Vancouver and arrange for our cast’s immediate arrival? If need be, I’ll notify the crew to film the scenes we are contractually obliged to film with Lady Lovecraft locally. I’m pretty sure that no one will know the difference.”

“Fine, but make sure our heroes are in Salton City on Monday by noon. I want you to pick them up personally, and resolve the issue dealing with their headquarters. I don’t care what you do; I just want you to insure that the Mayor chooses our super heroes. If our heroes are not in their lair by sundown on Monday, then you will be fired. Got that?”

“Yes, sir...”

“Good. Now get out of my office, I’m expecting my masseuse to arrive in 15 minutes... Tell the secretary to cancel all of my appointments for the next two hours.”




Today (Monday, March 2nd 2009).
Desert Flower Inn. Salton City, California.
Several days have passed since you received Emily Holland's package from My Tea Production and began your journey to California. Contained in the package was a brief note, plane tickets and instructions. You were not told where your final destination was going to be except that it was in California. Instead, you were told that each at each stop you would receive a package with further instructions and a ticket to the next location. You were also told not to disclose any information about the television series when you traveled, and that you were to pack lightly and only bring along any equipment you needed.

Late last night, after spending hours traveling traveling by plane, train, or automobile you arrived in Salton City and were given one last set of instructions:
1) Check in and rest at the Desert Flower Inn Motel.
2) At Noon walk across the street to Benny's Road House.
3) Ask for Emily.

Although you found yourself wishing against it, deep down, you know that Salton City was your final destination. From what you learned during the last few hours, you are not certain if you would had auditioned for the show if you knew where it was being filmed.


11:30 AM.
Across the street from the Desert Flower Inn you can see the Benny's Roadhouse's dilapidated wooded facade. From what you could tell, the establishment seems to be part biker-bar part steak-joint. In the half hour that passed since since the Benny's neon open sign turned on, the majority of the people who drove onto the business's parking lot appeared to be either bikers or truckers. That was before three black SUVs pulled into the parking lot, the occupants are four men and a single woman. Three of the men appear to be carrying what appear to be heavy cases.



The Cast
Blackrat - Sven Erik Erikkson, The Viking
Ginnel - Terrence Vance, Mr. TV
Halfrogman - Mikel "Michael" Styrzkwalski, The Ten-foot Pole
Jkason - Maxwell Freedman, Dord
Revielle - Michelle Anette Fox, The Rabid Fox
Shayuri - Keiko Ishimura, Kitsune






[sblock=OOC]
Each character has been in the Salton City since 8:00 pm the previous night (March 1st). None of the characters traveled on the same flight, train, bus, or taxi. However, it is possible that you may have spotted each other since you arrived at the motel.

It is assumed that each of your characters have filled out a non-disclosure agreement, although whether or not you actually stuck to it is up to you.
[/sblock]

 

[Blackrat]

Heathrow Airport, London. Saturday morning.

"Sir, I have to ask you to leave that axe for us to be put in the cargohold."
"WHAT! Nø! Ieg kan nej hunt diir wythøut yt!"
*Blinks heavily* "Sir, there are no deer in the plane."
"Then what ys Ieg ieting?"
*Thinks for a moment, trying to figure out what the hulking blonde said*
"We serve a meal during the flight, sir. There is nothing to worry about."
"Øh. That ys gøød." *Carefully hands the axe to the man next to him. Eyeing him suspiciously.*
"Ieg wyll hav røasted bøar og diir og mjöd. Løts mjöd og..."
"Yes sir, we received the list from the TV Company already. Unfortunatily we couldn't accomodate all your wishes but we..."
There's a loud bang as the hulking brute slams his fist (about the size of a child's head) to the table. The security guards, who by now encirle him, all move their hands to their guns. The huge man eyes the receptionist angrily.
"YÜ HAV ISCREM!?"
The receptionist, a veritable paragon of british calmness doesn't seem to be in anyway affected by this outburst
"Yes sir, we did get the icecream requested. Now if you'd please move along..."


Bus Station, Somewhere in Arizona. Sunday.

"Yes, this bus goes to Salton City, but I'll have to ask you to put the axe in the storage compartment. The other passengers are getting nervous."
The man in furs seems to perspire heavily and eyes the driver suspiciously, but by now he has gotten used to this kind of request.
"Jaa that ys gøød."
He hands the axe to the driver and goes to take a seat. He needs to cramp his legs awkwardly to fit in the small area and his head still bangs on the luggage shelves. A young student girl sits next to him, apparently smitten by his impressive looks.
"Why ys yt sø høt yn hir?" He asks aloud, wiping the sweat off his brow.
"You should take that fur coat off." The girl comments, getting a confused looks from the brute. Finally the man blushes.
"Nej, Ieg kan inte. That wøuld bi shim... shamm.. shamy..." He seems to give up the thought and instead digs two large spoons and a can of icecream from his bag. "Want iscrem?" He asks the girl, handing her the other spoon.


Somewhere in Arizona. Sometime Later.

The other passengers watch in amazement as the huge man effortlessly lifts the bus from the ditch and places it back on the road. He is blushed and looks almost like a little puppy when he walks to the driver. Just moments earlier an inexplicable "blizzard" had flash-frozen the road, as well as the breaks, and on that matter everything else in the bus...
"But myn iscrem ys meltyng." The man says, lifting his bag for the driver to see.
"Yes, you said so already. You just have to eat faster, you can't do things like that."
"But Ieg ys høt..."
"You've told that already too. Now, because you helped the bus back on road, I'm going to let you back in, but no more stuff like that.
"But..." He starts as the student girl places her hand on the brute's shoulder. Well she would if she'd reach it easily, now she has to content on placing it on the forearm. "Come on, it's only a few hours anymore. Surely you can take it until then."


Salton City. Sunday Evening.

It seems that, excluding the student, everyone else in the bus is relieved to see the huge loud man leave. He stands in the station, sweating and looking miserable. Looking at the directions he was handed, he sets towards the Inn. What might seem strange to people crossing the path later is the lingering coldness that trails from the station to the outskirts.


Sunday Night.

A knock rouses The Viking and he goes to open the door.
"Hey, the occupants in the adjacent rooms are complaining about the cold."
"But..."
"Yes, you told you don't like the heat, but you need to stop doing that"
"But..."
"If you don't I'll have to ask you to leave, and I don't care about that TV Company anymore."
The brute seems to pout, but finally nods. Then a smile lights his face.
"Kan Ieg hav iscrem?"
"Okay, I'll bring you icecream. What flavor?"
"Øh, ani ys gøød."


Monday, 11:15 AM.

The Viking marches to the bar in his full attire, and sits down. Filled with bikers the giant of a man almost fits in perfectly, were it not for his pretty-boy face. The brute gets quite a looks around the bar.
"Tavern Kiiper! Ieg wyll hav mjöd."

[sblock=OOC]If anyone wants to use that part of "Occupants in adjacent rooms coplaining about the cold", feel free to do so. Afterall, we did all stay at the same motel.[/sblock]

 

[Relique du Madde]

Benny's Road House: Interior.
The inside of Benny's Road House is what you would expect when you think of a Biker Bar.

The walls and floor is covered by wooden planking which gives a visitor an impression of being within a barn. The walls of the room are covered with the usual odd piece of Western themed Americana, dust covered photographs of long gone patrons, "stolen" road signage, and beer related paraphernalia.



Monday, 11:15 AM.
When Sven entered the bar, there no one standing behind the bar and several of the stools were occupied by a group of bearded bikers, most of which were watching to be watching the bar's television curious interest as the news reported spoke about a never ending blizzard in Phoenix. One of the bikers who watched the news story, an ancient frail man who appeared to be in his seventies, began to ramble about demons.

"Tavern Kiiper! Ieg wyll hav mjöd."

From the back of the building, the barkeep an older over-weight man dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans that were covered by black leather chaps, a blue western styled shirt, and cowboy boots quickly made his way towards where Sven sat. "Hold yer horses, lad... I canna walk fast and I canna hardly understand a word yer saying. An I canna tell ef yer drunk er ef yer stupid."

A blond haired woman, dressed in tight black pants and an equally tight white top laughed as she walked by. "Benny, honey, look how he's dressed. He must be one of those heavy metal foreign people that was here for that concert."

"Shheeee... Them again? I though they ah left last week.." Benny walked behind the bar. "Alright, Boris, ef that's yer name, point ta a bottle ye wanna drink from an I'll get et fer ya."

 

[Blackrat]

Sven stares at the man with a puzzled looks. The speed at which he talked made it impossible for him to understan just about anything. Maybe he needed to try a different approach. Slowly and with loud voice he tries to convey his message.
"BIER. DARK OG STRØNG:"

 

[Relique du Madde]

"You hear that honey?" The waitress threw a mischevious glance towards Benny. "The lad want's you to give him something dark and strong. That makes two of us in this hell hole."

"Doncha start that again... I ain't gonna lecha go over ta Paradice fer no damn orgy." Several of the bikers started to laugh and Benny poured Sven's drink. "Woman, just cuz I paid fer sergery donna means ya can go prancen 'round like a nympho on crack." The old timer shook his head and placed a glass before Sven. "Bet the women arnot like that where yer from... So tell me, why ya dressed en all that metal? Yer goinna war er somethen?"

 

[Blackrat]

Sven nodded at the fast talking incomprehencible man as he poured the drink and babbled. "Jaa, jaa, bier jaa." He was trying hard to keep up what the man spoke about, but didn't do very good job at it. As the others burst in laughter, Sven smiles confused, but pretends to get the "joke". He keeps staring at the glass as the man goes on. Apparently he had asked something. After some considering he looks for the note from his beltpouch. "Ieg miit Emyli. Ieg ys erli." He shows the man the note that says to come in at noon and ask for "Emily".

 

[Relique du Madde]

"Yer looking fer Emily? Doncha worry, shell be here soon. I'll keep yer beer flowen while ya wait."


Benny called over the waitresss, Donna, and asked her to watch the room before he vanished towards the back of the Road House.


Monday 11:30 AM.

A few minutes later, a young woman in her early twenties who was clutching onto a clipboard entered Benny's closely followed by four men. The woman was dressed in dark grey, a fashionable cut pantsuit and a sheer white blouse. Unlike the young woman, her companions were dressed casually, and three of the men were carrying heavy cases.

"We're on a tight schedule, so I'll need you four to set up immediately. We went over the plan last night so, I don't think we need to..." The woman paused. "Cory. Go back to the van and get the mics and cables."

Cory laughed as he exited Benny's Road House "Sorry dudette. I forgot."

The woman gave an audible sigh as her eyes fell upon Sven. "Sven Erikkson, it surprised that you arrived before I got here. Then again, you didn't have to deal with Cory getting the entire production caravan lost." She extended her slender hand over to Sven. "I'm the show's associate producer Emily Holland. Wait here for a bit while set up in the private room. The others should be arriving soon."

 

[hafrogman]

Warsaw, Poland

"Why am I doing this, again, mother?"

Michael spun and twisted in a vain attempt to follow his mother through the house as she stretched herself through half a dozen rooms, packing, feeding the cat, checking her computer and writing a note for the housekeeper, all at pretty much the same time. Not watching where he was going he slammed his face into a low door frame with a quiet thud. His spine bent back 90° at his waist, and with a sigh, he continued to walk that way through the hallway until he finally cornered her in the entrance hall. Standing up straight in with the vaulted ceiling, he stood in between her and the front door.

"Well?"

The diminutive woman looked up at her son and smiled brightly, oblivious to his frustration.

"You said you would. The Republic needs you. And because your father and I won't be paying your rent this semester. So it's go, get a job, or move back in with your parents."

Her smile takes on a slightly harder edge as her last barb hits home, stunning her son slightly. She takes advantage of the situation to stretch upwards and kiss Michael on the forehead (How many women can do that?) even as she reaches around his back and opens up the front door. Halfway out the door she twists her neck back even as she continues walking to the waiting car.

"Oh, honey, a cyborg-zombie Stalin is causing trouble just over the border. Your father and I will be busy for a few days. . . and then we're thinking of taking some vacation down in the Mediterranean. But we'll call you in a couple of weeks to check up. Bye!"

---------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere over the Arctic

The next day, Michael found himself sitting on a crate, in the belly of a cargo plane that looked like it hadn't flown since the Soviet days, winging his way towards America. "We've arranged air travel, accommodating to your special needs", the packet had said. Michael had assumed they had gotten him a first-class seat, as there was no way he would fit in coach. But no, that would have been far too expensive. Far better to dig up this rusty relic and see if they couldn't get it airborne.

There weren't even any windows to glare out of. Alone, in the dark, Michael sighed to himself and tried to find a corner to get some sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------
Jacqueline Cochran Regional Airport

"You've GOT to be kidding me."

The taxi driver was waiting dutifully for Michael, holding up a sign, painstakingly labeled,

"Str
Styz
Styrzw
Styrzkwalski"

The man glanced at the form lumbering towards him, then back at his economy sized vehicle. Then back at Michael. Shaking his head, he threw the sign in the nearest trash bin.

"You're on your own, mate. Salton City is that way, take the 86 south."

Then he drove off, leaving Michael puzzled and alone, standing outside the airport. With one lingering glance back at the airport, he sighed heavily, shouldered his bag, and set off walking beside the highway. He considered trying to hitchhike, but most cars veered away from him, and he thought he heard one or two accidents behind him.

After about ten miles, one bored man driving a pickup did finally stop, and offered him a lift, in the bed, for a nominal fee. Still, it meant it was barely past midnight, Monday morning when Michael reached the Desert Flower Inn Motel. A harried looking night clerk checked him in while clutching a phone to his ear, barely registering his existence, let alone his appearance.

"Yes, ma'am. I know. We think it's a problem with the air conditioning system, we're having someone look into it. We'll send up some extra blankets for now. No, I don't know when it will be fixed."

Eventually, Michael made his way to his room for the night, what was left of it, looked askance at the tiny bed, and tried to curl up as best he could to get some sleep.

-----------------------------------------------
Benny's Road House

The entrance swings open, as a man ducks low to make it through the door. Then he straightens and stands up, and up, and up. Michael tries to strike a dramatic pose as possible, and casts his gaze around the room. He takes a purposeful stride forward. . . right into a ceiling fan, which stops and complains until Michael removes his head from its path. All semblance of confidence (and competence) lost, Michael ducks embarrassingly lower, as he walks towards the bar.

"Sorry about the fan. I'm looking for Emily."

 

[Shayuri]

Previously, on Salton City Needs Heroes...
"Yes, ma'am. I know. We think it's a problem with the air conditioning system, we're having someone look into it. We'll send up some extra blankets for now. No, I don't know when it will be fixed."

Keiko yanked the heavy, ungainly handset of the motel phone away from her ear and glared at it in stark disbelief. She had a towel wrapped around her head and another around her body...big fluffy towels made for ridiculously oversized gaijin. She could wear this towel outside and not feel a tinge of embarassment; it was like a full size sarong on her. Unfortunately, while it protected her modesty, and soaked up water admirably, it was no defense against the waves of cold radiating from the wall behind the TV.

"You don't KNOW?" she demanded of the phone. "You don't know?! How can you stay in business, not knowing things like that? There is ICE on my WALL. I just got out of the shower and my hair started to freeze!" She paused, listening to it for a moment.

"Well...can I at least get another room?"

Pause.

Keiko scowled incredulously and opened her drapes enough to see out to the desolate vista beyond. "You're FULL?! This is the middle of nothing! There's NOTHING HERE! How can you be full?!"

She paused again, then pressed her face into her hand.

"I don't care about a refund, it's not even my money... No. No. Yes. I...don't know offhand, it's probably on the...yes. What about a...a..." She thumped her hand on her leg, trying to remember the word. "Heater! Space heater. Well I won't start a fire, I just want to...what? There is?"

Following the receptionist's instructions, Keiko pulled the curtains even more aside to reveal the air conditioner, which was off.

"Why would you have a heater in the air conditioner? Your motel is in the desert. No...fine. I'll try it. But if the air conditioner's not causing the ice...no, that's your problem. I don't care what's making it. Just make it stop. No. Make it stop. Yes, that's all."

For a second Keiko held the phone back as if about to hurl it at its base...then scowled and let go, merely dropping it. The handset however did not fall. Rather it floated gently to the cradle and lowered itself in. She reached down to flip the dial all the way over into the red, then turned it on high.

It had been a long, frustrating trip. Just ten minutes later Keiko was asleep...the towel on her head unraveling as she twisted and turned to let her long, glossy black hair spread out around her head in a dark cloud.

And now, the conclusion...

Keiko "Kitsune" Ishimura woke up with her toes freezing and her head baking. She also somehow seemed to have managed to tangle herself up in her towel as she slept, making an image that was sure to be a fetish somewhere on the internet. With a muttered curse she twisted around to put her feet near the heat and cool her head off as she disengaged from the towel.

Somehow she doubted ninjas had mornings like this.

She had to shower again, both to tame her hair, which had dried as she slept into a shape that no kind and loving God would ever inflict on one of His children, as well as to get the sweat off most of her head and upper body...not to mention the blood flowing again in her nigh-frostbitten shins and feet.

That done, Keiko picked an outfit. She dithered a bit over her costume, which might send the wrong message since she'd last worn it while robbing a museum, or something more normal. Skirt? Jeans? It was really too hot outside for a jacket...though she needed one in the room. Finally she settled on a pretty regular blue jeans and red-orange flamestriped short sleeved pullover shirt, with a yellow ribbon in her hair to add a feminine touch to an otherwise pretty gender-neutral ensemble. Little makeup, just to darken the lashes a bit...all set.

As Keiko crossed the lobby to head over to the diner, her mobile rang. The ringtone indicated it was her agent, and she held the sleek black lozenge up to her ear. "Moshi."

The voice on the other side started to say something, then paused and said in Japanese, "You're supposed to say that twice." It was a deep, jovial voice, now fraught with melodramatic concern. Inazuma was a bit of a ham...probably from all the actors he dealt with.

"I'm a fox," Keiko replied nonchalantly. "We can't repeat things."

The man who called himself 'lightning' burst into barrel-chested laughter. "That's good! We can make that one of your things. Moshi. Hah! I love you, kid!"

"Well, you don't show it." Her voice turned petulant. "This motel is awful."

"Aww, hey, I'm sorry," Inazuma assured her. "That was the studio, not me! I wanted you to have a trailer, but none of the others get one, and they couldn't make an exception. Laws. Pft."

"What kind of agent are you?!"

"Hey, I got you the job, right?" he replied, rising to the challenge in her voice. "And you should have a package at the front desk too. From your first sponsor! Remember to face the camera while you wear it, and SMILE Keiko! Don't be so gloomy! People remember and love a smiling face. That's what you need to show them. Hero smile!"

Keiko put her thumb over the smartphone's tiny little camera lens and poked her tongue out at it. Then she uncovered it and asked, "Front desk? Alright. I have to wear it...how long?"

"Just ten minutes while you're camera. No more than that! That's all they paid for."

"Ten minutes! That's nothing!"

"It's just the beginning, Kitsune. It's just the beginning. If you perform well, big companies will line up to buy hours of airtime on you!"

She sighed, but couldn't help smiling. Hours would add up. Fast. "They'd better. Okay, I have to go. I'll call you!"

Phone call over, Keiko went to the desk and asked for a package in her name. Got it. Opened it.

...after a moment she decided it could have been worse. A little.

Benny's Road House

And so a gorgeously cute Japanese girl sauntered into the bar, in a normal sort of outfit any university student or similar might wear...except for the oversized baseball cap on her head, sporting the clearly visible team logo of The Ultra-Typhoon Eaters...a Japanese team name inexpertly translated into English, with the kanji over the translation.

She surveyed the room...two of the men present seemed -particularly- huge to her. With a quick check of her watch, she went over to sit at one of the few seats still open at the bar.

 

[Relique du Madde]

An old timer who sat to the just right of Sven laughed as Micheal entered the bar. "Ha! Hey Donna, they're not from a heavy metal concert. They're from the freak show!"

Donna licked her lips mischievously, "Let's just hope that that boy's freakishly large everywhere... then I'll call him blessed.."

The old timer who sat closest to the television spoke up. "I don't know... they must have come from Roswell.. damn aliens and their abductions... It all makes sense. The blizzard... the snow.. metalo over there... that freakish giant... You know them aliens took my wife back in 69... and never returned her. They even left a note too.."

"Sorry about the fan. I'm looking for Emily."

"Emily's in the rear with Benny. She told Boris over there to wait." She chuckled. "Funny, for a new gal in town, that Emily sure is popular with all sorts of strange looking men. Take several seats and I'll be right there."Donna noticed Keiko. "I think that girl was waiting first..."

"Sorry for not noticing you, dear. I was busy with those two giants and feeding swill to our usual hogs. So what brings you to our small patch of desert, besides wanting a drink?"