"Hallo wieder, mein alt freund." I say to my dog Sampson as I walk into the hollowed out antique shop that I adopted as my HQ. I moped in; half slumped over after a full day of back-breaking labor for the local gang master. Any time there was a depression in customers, I would work for him. He'd give me approximately 500 creds for 10 hours of work, but it still sucked. I flicked on my television and started preparing the usual microwave meal. The urge hit, so I went to the bathroom in the meantime, and upon my return, I noticed that my computer was alit with that eerie orange glow, telling me that I had either a message, a job, or a call; each foreboding in their own manner. Although it could be urgent, I banked on the assumption that it wasn't, and decided to eat my mediocre dinner and watch the latest episode of "Dr. Marting and the Caliginous Caper." I plopped down on that old couch I'd had since before I can remember. It sits in the middle of the main room, I hollowed out an antique shop in a small bazaar in the middle of Berlin, it was three rooms, the main, my bathroom, and the bedroom. The couch sat in the dead center of the room, which was only about 30 feet by 20, not much. The bedroom held a dresser, my bed, and my small console at which my computer was perched upon. The bathroom was standard, had a bath-shower combo and a sink. It was nothing to brag about.
But I digress. The chip in my right temple buzzed slightly, it was my friend Slider trying to tell me about the new gadget he was working on. "Listen man, this thing is going to change the face of home-cleaning, I promiseā¦"
"Slider, I'm not in the mood, it's been a long-ass day and I'm frankly tired as all get out. I'm eating, is it fine if I call you tomorrow?" I replied, with as much exhaustion as I could show without being too obvious that I didn't enjoy speaking with him.
"Yeah man, I'll write you a letter about it, I'll send it to your comp so you can read it whenever you want. Take care mein Freund." He finished, with that telltale buzz that he'd hung up the call.
I looked emptily down at my plate of gooey Mac&Cheese with carrots, stirred it slightly with my over-washed spoon, took a bite and set it aside. That message was stirring in my mind and I had to know what it was. It was nothing unusual, but I was never good at suppressing urges. I half fell into my computer chair, allowing it to slowly roll across the floor until it stopped in front of the consol. With the contact of my fingertips, the console unfolded until it was roughly 35% bigger, with all the attachments I had had Slider add to it. I pressed the screen to lower the notification and I looked pulled up my messages. I had two mails, the most recent being that message Slider sent to me, God damn that guy had a one-track mind. The second, however, being addressed from a Mr. Kramer L. Fischbach, had a subject of "Business Opportunity."
Needless to say, I was intrigued. I could hear the sounds of Sammy eating my food. I whistled and he trotted over, with orange goo all over his mouth. "What am I going to do with you, dog?" I asked him rhetorically as I scratched his head. "Let's see what this is all about bud, I've been dying to get some work done. My brain is positively itching to get something exciting done."
