The people of Sanctuary had no need for a mailman, seeing how small their flying city was and the utility of the ECHOnet. But Claptrap felt the need to be useful in some way, so he (As he believed to be referred to.) took upon himself to deliver the fine people their physical mail, regardless of weather (Seeing how Sanctuary tended to hang above the clouds, that wasn't a issue.) regardless of attacks by bandits or evil corporations (His cloaking device still worked, much to the surprise of about everyone.) and regardless of his own personal issues. (At this point, a Gunzerker with a Nukem and a Maggie couldn't keep him down for long.)
Having somehow gained a proper cap and satchel, Claptrap went about his usual route to deliver all the important mail to everyone in the city. First came the nameless NPCs, who got bits and pieces and various junk mail so they could complain about it as a main character passed by them. Avoiding a few stray pistol shots from the drunk and the sober hecklers, he made his way towards Scooter's Garage to drop off his new wrenches. Either for fixing cars, repairing the many and complex machines that kept Sanctuary afloat, or for building that wifedroid he had been muttering about for a while.
"One order of Hyerflux AO55 12 Count!" Claptrap announced as he threw the package into Scooter's lap, smashing against his manhood. Scooter fell out of his chair and onto the floor, launching the box of the heavy-duty tools into his face. As he lay there groaning in pain, he expected some stupid kid to come by and insult him for some reason. Not today though; Tommy didn't memorize his vocabulary sheet and was grounded.
Next came a cooler for one Doctor Zed, obviously stuffed with illegal organs. Claptrap wanted to take a peek inside and see if he could recognize the organ and who it belonged to…but a mailman's duty is to deliver and not ruin the surprise! A mailman is not allowed to open up packages and look at the contents, not even if it is a bomb! Unless it is a bomb and it's specifically made to blow you up, then the mailman can declare martial law as far as anyone cares. With a throw that would shame the great and the possibly late Dunks Watson, Claptrap got the cooler onto the operating table and actually earning a half-hearted thumbs-up from Zed. It looked Zed had opened up another Bandit's chest in order to figure out the grand mystery as to how they produced buzz saws out of nowhere.
Much later, his findings would conclude: They shit them out literally.
Next came a huge stack of paperwork to be given to Marcus. Claptrap overheard Marcus recently figured out a way to bring laser weapons to Pandora, so these papers must be the final touches in completing the deal of the century. Marcus groaned as he got handed the papers. As Claptrap left, he could the hiss of a steam machine starting up. Looks like Marcus still got use out of that old printing press. Either that, or Marcus found dumping it would cost too much. Oh, if only he would compare…buying ink would cost more than getting rid of the machine.
Down to Moxxi's to drop off a fruit basket. No tag on from anyone asking for her hand in marriage. Claptrap usually had to steal another satchel to store all the mail she got. Gifts like this tended to either get eaten, go spoilt, get stolen and ended up being sold by Crazy Earl. This one fruit basket seemingly went ignored…perhaps it had to with the fact that it wasn't a fruit basket, but rather a containment unit for the rare Pandora Bluebird Fruit, a fruit that said to bring good luck to those who either eat parts of it or smell the fragrant stench. Claptrap didn't know this, and gave his usual 'deliver of love' speech to the bored Moxxi before karting off. Moxxi at least hoped that the fruit would bring a end to these annoying messages…
…and the final delivery of the day. The Crimson Raiders fanmail. People wanted to express many, MANY things about the ragtag force that beat Hyperion. Appreciation from the people who were saved by Raiders, requests for support in areas they haven't gotten to, applications to join them, the many and twisted fantasies they had about key members of the Raiders, marriage invitations…still only took half of Claptrap's original satchel. Three raps to the door and in he went to drop off the bag.
"Good morning!" Claptrap gave a hearty introduction. Some members sighed in unison preventing Claptrap from signaling out the people in the crowd and the others just remained quiet. Claptrap went to work of reaching into sack like some sort of robotic Santa Claus and digging out a letter to address to each person to prolong the story and introduce the characters. "Lilith and Maya!" Claptrap chimed up. "You got a letter each from one James Wilson! He's asking for your hands in marriage going by the flowery stationary and the sweet smell of Honey Rose No.6!"
"Oh, sorry." Lilith walked over and snatched the letters out of Claptrap's hand to set it ablaze with her powers, sounding all so-sincere. "If it had been Honey Rose No.7, I would have accepted." Maya nodded in agreement, more interested in her book than the poorly-written letter.
"But Lilith, there has never a Honey Rose following No.6." Claptrap stated. "You see, the factory that made the perfume had been raided by Bandits…"
"Moving on." Lilith muttered with a tone that meant 'do or die, but you might die anyway.' Despite the subtle hint of burning death, Claptrap reached in and pulled out a square box. "To a Mr. Axton, no last name…whatever it is, it's heavy!" Claptrap promptly shook it to hear the sounds of cluttering metal pieces.
"Hey, careful there!" Axton grunted as he had to rescue his mail. "Those are my metal gears I need for my turret! Without them, my baby will be useless on the battlefield!" He held the box like one would protect a baby. "Claptrap, you should know better to mistreat mechanical parts. You need to know to use them."
"Sorry, sorry…" Claptrap profusely apologized before continuing his digging. This time he pulled out a small letter with only the basic details scrawled on. "It's for you Gaige!"
"Gimme, gimee!" The maniac mechromancer demanded as he snatched the letter out of Claptrap's vice grip. "I've been expecting this for too long…" She turned around and started to mutter something to herself. "…and none of you will NEVER read this. Try it and we'll play the mechromancer version of hangman, in which every time I catch one of you guys reading my stuff, I'll replace a limb with a mechanical one." The rest of the Crimson Raiders just ignored her and urged Claptrap with their hands and eyes to continue. "I mean it!" Gaige stressed.
"Next up…" Claptrap pulled out a parcel all tied up with string. "Hey, Brick, package from your mom!"
"YES!" Brick's gleeful cheer made everyone in the room jump up and some even let out surprise. Brick laughed out loud as he took the package and tore it apart to reveal a dogbowl. "It's Priscilla's old dogbowl!" He hugged the memento before going up to his room to place it on his shelf to gaze at every so often and reminisce about all the good times he had with his old dog…until Tiny Tina would snatch it and fill it with gasoline and would use it to coax Brick into letting her join the Slabs as their demoman 'just like in that video game you wouldn't let me play but I do it anyway!'
"Next one is for Mordecai!" Claptrap announced, holding up a small envelope. "Does the 32nd Annual Demeter Sharp Shooting Contest ring any bells?"
"Yeah, yeah." Mordecai got up from feeding Talon and took his envelope. "Another medal." He shrugged before tossing the package over his head and landing it perfectly into the waste bin without hitting the sides on the way in. "Don't need it…" He sighed as he went back to Talon. "…besides, they were terrible shots…"
"Okay…" Claptrap pulled out…a galvanized iron bar bent into a German pretzel. "Krieg?"
"CLASSIC ARTWORK FOR THE MIND AND THE STOMACH!" Krieg jumped down the stairs and snatched the 'art' before swinging on a overhanging bar and throwing himself outside to go and show people his new toy. No need to go any further; outside of one fact. Where did it come from, who made it, when did Krieg re-learn how to order items like a normal person, how did he pay for it when his accounts were frozen following a incident were he bought a entire colony of alpacas and they caused mass hysteria all across Sanctuary; eating food all over, chewing through electric appliances, kicking people over, and ruining the financial infrastructure by doing inside dealings.
"Salvador!" Claptrap piped up after everyone stopped to listen to Kreig's description of the iron pretzel. "Letter from momma!" Salvador made a sound like a junkyard dog giving a fair warning and took the letter for himself. Going into his little corner with a badass stride while flexing his muscles, he quickly zipped into the corner and carefully opened the letter with much glee to learn that his abuela was doing just fine. The second generation Vault Hunters wondered why he bothered hiding this after spending many hours in the wastelands going on about her and the first and 1.5 generation were thinking as to why he didn't just come out.
"Sorry Zer0." Claptrap closed the bag. "I got nothing for you. I was pretty sure I did…but I think it might have been stolen…"
"Oh do not worry,
My mail is perfectly fine,
I stole earlier."
Zer0 held up a postcard he got from an offworld client he helped out many years ago who somehow learned of Zer0's location. Claptrap shrugged and tossed the satchel onto the table so the group can go through their mail on their own time. "Welp, I'm off!" He waved bye, but nobody would wave back. "I got to go back to the office and sort my flamingos…"
Claptrap stopped short, not understanding why he said that. "I meant I got to go to the bathroom and swim in the cleaning kit fluid…no…" Claptrap's arm started to twirl around slowly. The Crimson Raiders took interest now. "What I'm trying to shotgun…no, pistol…SMG…tomahawk…erghagh…" Claptrap's arms started to twirl around even faster now, and his eye started to flash a bright blue. "…funny episode of Family Guy…absolutely not!" Claptrap groaned as his entire body started to shake. "Guys, do you ever feel like you're slowly loosing your mind and then you explode…"
With a loud hiss and bang, Claptrap's arms shot out and were firmly embedded into the ceiling and his chassis shot up from his wheel and crashed right behind him. The Crimson Raiders ducked behind furniture to avoid any other shrapnel coming from the completely defective Claptrap. While still alive, he was in need of serious repairs to both hardware and software.
In the weather, unusual black clouds started to move in toward Sanctuary. They didn't appear to be carrying rain going by how the land underneath the clouds weren't drenched in acidic liquid, but the clouds did bring a bad omen…
