Missionapocalypse

We had a real milkrun today. Good thing too cause it wasn’t really a paying deal. Billy, alocal kid, wanted about of an escort moving simchips from the plant to his place. He was worried there might be trouble. Smart kid. There always might be trouble. So we – that’s me, billy, and elf-boy, plus new girl miss Theo who joined the team or something – drove to the pickup spot and waited.

Dear Daisy, From Vance So our whole mixed group rode back ta town with Running Dog or whatever his Indian name is. We had our buried box for Johnny the mysterious guard, and we passed that over to Johnny the next morning unopened – not for lack of trying from Pam the drone-girl. I had kinda figured we should hold the box back until he delivered on his favor, but it worked out ok anyway.

Dear Daisy, From Vance Well it’s been a weird few days since you stopped by with that package for me! It was a hoodie. Bright red, the ridin’ roughnecks logo. Some sort of sportsball team. Weren’t nothing I ordered, though I admit I sometimes put your address on stuff when I’m between jobs or houses.. anyways I got a call the next day saying put it on and go to this local sports bar.