"Guess whose waking up here?"
"Come on man! Would ya get it over with?"
"You made your last delivery kid."
"Sorry you got twisted into the scene baby. From where your kneeling must seem like a 18 karat run of bad luck."
"Truth is, game was rigged from the start."
BANG!
The Courier instantly woke up, confused with her surroundings. The bang she heard made her worry that she was back at the graveyard all those weeks ago. Quickly she realised she was in the Ultra-Luxe kitchens. And the noise was caused by the chef dropping a small crate. She looked up to the chef, whose face was covered in panic.
In his panic, the chef quickly left the pantry and shut the door. The Courier stood up and ran to the door. She banged her fists on the door, shouting,
"LET ME OUT YOU CANNIBAL!" The chef made no reply. Putting her ear against the metal door, she could faintly hear something being dragged up to the door. Her eyes widened. He was putting something up against the door so she couldn't escape! She looked at her Pip-Boy. It was now half 6! She only had half an hour to put in the substitute meat into the meal AND find Tim.
The Courier quickly scanned around the room. There had to be something that could help her. Analysing the room, she found several large crates. While she was out cold, the chef must have been moving the crates into the pantry. That would explain why he dropped one when she woke up. The Courier went over to the crates, hoping they wouldn't be too heavy to lift.
Lifting one up, the Courier was glad to find out that they weren't as heavy as she expected. Sure, they weren't light as a feather but when you've had to carry a Missile Launcher at times, she was used to the weight. She waddled over to the door with the crate. Closing her eyes, the Courier used all her strength and threw the crate straight at the door. Unfortunately, the crate had no effect. The door didn't budge at all.
The Courier glared at the door. Her temper rising, she thrashed her fists on the door once again.
"GET THIS FUCKING DOOR OPEN NOW!" This time, the chef made a reply. He called back,
"NO! I WILL NOT HAVE TRASH LIKE YOU RUINING A SPECIAL NIGHT!" The Courier gasped at the insult. Bitch she would have been used to. Heck even whore she would be fine with, since that was a common insult for her in New Vegas.
But trash? Oh. Hell. NO!
Grating her teeth angrily, the Courier opened up a crate. It was full of Sunset Sarsaparilla. With an idea in her mind, she snarled back,
"TRASH AM I? WELL THEN! WHY DON'T I JUST 'TRASH' YOUR LITTLE PANTRY UP?' Grabbing a bottle of the root beer beverage, she threw it on the floor. And another. And another. She carried on until the crate was empty. The floor was littered with broken glass, bottle caps and Sunset Sarsaparilla. The Courier could hear a horrified gasp from the other side of the room. She grinned wickedly.
She continued the trash place, by grabbing Pre-War food, opening the packaging and pouring out the contents onto the floor. After going through a few Pre-War items, the metal door opened and the chef appeared, his face red with anger. The Courier instantly got out her silenced pistol and aimed it at his face. The chef put his hands in the air, his face losing colour.
With a stony glare, the Courier questioned,
"Where's Tim Gunderson?" The chef replied nervously,
"I don't know who you're on about!" The Courier repeated her question again, with a harsher tone,
"Where is Tim Gunderson?" Sweat appeared on the chef's forehead. He quickly stammered,
"H-he's dead! The d-dinner's all s-sorted!" The Courier's eyes widened. If Tim was dead and the meal was done, then where was it?
Not bothering to ask the chef the question in her mind, she quickly lowered her aim and shot the chef's foot. Crying out in pain he fell on the floor, crawled into the fetal position. She passed him and closed the pantry door, locking it so the chef wouldn't be able to escape. The Courier now focused her task on finding the meal. There were no pans on the cooker and no food on the counter. This must have meant that the meal had already gone.
Now in panic mode, the Courier set off to find where the meal was taking place. Luckily no one was in the kitchens so she wouldn't be caught by anyone passing by. She found the stairs leading to the hall. Running up the stairs, her breath became haggard and her heart was beating madly. When she got to the door, the Courier took a deep breath and open the door slowly, making no noise.
The hall was filled with White Glove members. They were all sitting at the table, with Marjorie in the middle with Mortimer right by her. The colour went from the Courier's face as she saw lower rank White Glove members, serving the meal. Looking for a place to hide, she looked straight towards the curtains at the stage. She sneakily ran to the stage and hid behind the curtains. Opening the curtains for a small peephole, she was able to watch the next events.
After the dinner was served, wine was served to the White Gloves. Wine was poured from many bottles into glasses. This was what the Courier was worried about. Drugging the one wine bottle was simply wasted time and it was supposed to be one thing she had done right. The Courier sighed sadly. However she certainly wasn't expecting what would happen next.
Marjorie and Mortimer were given their wine. While Mortimer was swirling the red liquid, Marjorie drunk some of the wine. After her sip, she put the glass down. The Courier could see Marjorie's eyes widen and turn to Mortimer. She whispered something into his ear. He began to take a sip of the wine. The Courier realised; they had the drugged wine! However her joy was short-lived as Mortimer called for another bottle and they both got rid of their original glasses. The Courier pouted in misery,
"Great, just freaking great."
They were given another bottle, and the lower rank White Glove member took away the drugged wine bottle. After he left, Marjorie stood up from her seat and announced,
"Before we eat our dinner, we must gave thanks to Mortimer," she signalled to Mortimer, who was showing a disgusting smile, "who discovered this new delicacy, which I believe is Horned Pig with fava beans." All the White Glove Society gave applause to Mortimer, who smug grin widened.
After the applause, Marjorie sat down which gave a cue to the members to start their meal. The Courier couldn't stand to watch them unknowingly eating human meat and was about to emerge from the curtain. However, she heard a small shuffle of feet to her side. The Courier immediately grabbed her pistol. She heard another shuffle of feet, by her left. Taking a risk, she rushed into what she imagined was a White Glove member.
She was right as she pushed into a man who stumbled by the surprise attack. Grunting, he got back on his feet and quickly put on the backstage lights. Thinking fast, the Courier held up her pistol and took a shot at the man. But Lady Luck left her side, as the pistol was out of ammo. While the Courier glared at her gun, the White Glove member smirked evilly. He held up his cane and took a swing at her.
The Courier ducked and the man missed her. She ran to some boxes that were on the floor of the backstage. Rummaging through them quickly, she found a box full of canes. She grabbed one and turned, just in time to see the White Glove take another hit at her. This time, he managed to hit the Courier by the thigh. She closed her eyes in pain as the hit gave her a dead leg and she collapsed. The White Glove straddled her and began to strangle her by the neck.
Gasping for air, the Courier used her arms to try and fine some kind of weapon. She found the cane she had previously used and grabbed it tightly. With all her strength, she hit the White Glove on his head. She got him right in the temple of his head and his immediately loosened his grip on her and fell to the floor. Taking deep breaths, the Courier got to her feet and hit the White Glove with the cane on his back. He didn't respond to the attack. He was either dead or unconscious. The Courier didn't give one; she had more important things to consider.
Speaking of important things, she went back to the curtains and peeked out to see what was now happening. During her fight with the White Glove, the White Glove Society had managed to eat their meal and were now waiting for the dishes to be taken away. The Courier closed her eyes and sighed sadly.
"I'm gonna need a strong drink after this," she mused.
While the White Glove were dabbing their mouths with their napkins, Mortimer stood up. The Courier opened her eyes and started to become worried. She remembered he was going to reveal where the meat actually came from. The outcome of this would be unpredictable. The White Glove Society could actually like the fact they had become cannibals and then proceed to find and eat the Courier. Or, on the other hand, they could become outraged and proceed to murder him brutally. It could go either way.
Mortimer began,
"Now that we have eaten our meal, I must reveal that the meat did not, in fact, come from a Horned Pig." All around the hall, members began looking at each other with concerned looks. He continued,
"First of all, I must stress how we should re-enlighten ourselves to the old practices of our proud Society. Myself and a few others have in the last few months started up our old practices and recently we feel everyone in the White Glove Society should join us. Therefore, I reveal to you all that the meal you have just consumed is human flesh." He finished with a proud smile, holding his head up high.
Many of the members gasped, horrified. Marjorie instantly stood up and glared at him. She questioned angrily,
"You mean to tell me that we have actually eaten human flesh? That we have acted as cannibals?" Mortimer nodded,
"Why yes. Yes I do." Marjorie called out, never taking her eyes off Mortimer,
"My gun please." One of the members ran to her room and quickly came back with a pistol. What type of pistol the Courier couldn't tell.
The White Glove gave Marjorie her pistol. She put right against Mortimer's forehead, who still displaying a smug grin, and pulled the trigger. A bloody mess resulted from her actions. Mortimer's body fell to the floor, while Marjorie gave her pistol back to the White Glove. The whole room went deadly silent, the White Gloves unsure of what would happen.
Suddenly, the entrance to the Member's Only Section burst open and many men welding shotguns and rifles ran into the hall. The White Glove body guards held their pistols and canes in response. The Courier noticed all these men looked similar to Heck Gunderson's bodyguard from yesterday. Her mouth dropped when she saw Heck and his bodyguard arrive and faced Marjorie. He asked, his tone filled with rage,
"Where is my son?" Marjorie didn't answer, her voice gone. The Courier felt sorry for her. It should have been Mortimer who had to deal with this, not her. Heck asked again, louder,
"WHERE IS MY SON?"
There was still no answer. Growing impatient, Heck whispered to his bodyguard. The bodyguard immediately started his shooting at Marjorie. The other men joined in, shooting at the other White Glove members. The White Glove defended themselves, hitting the men with canes or using their own pistols. The scene was turning into a Western brawl.
The Courier appeared from the curtains, hoping no one would notice. Luckily everyone was too absorbed in the fight. The Courier jumped from the stage onto the table and ran to the other side. She managed to avoid any flying bullets and when she got to the other side, she quickly ran to the main part of the Ultra-Luxe.
Outside the Members' Only Section, the Courier found herself caught up with fleeing travellers. She decided to merge in the crowd so no one would notice. As she got to the main casino and entrance she saw Securitrons going past her in the direction of the fight. Just before leaving, she quickly found her weapons and took them all back. While doing this, she observed the scene. Just an hour ago, Ultra-Luxe was a refined casino whose organisation was full of posh, snooty snobs. Now, it was a chaotic mess with people fleeing, not knowing the true reason for doing so.
Taking one last look at the casino, she left and join others in running away from the casino. Outside, travellers were getting their breath back, Securitrons were entering the Ultra-Luxe and NCR troops were observing the scene, confusion spread across their faces.
The Courier sat down near the fountain and looked up at the sky. The sky was beautiful with its twinkling stars and crescent moon. Frowning she muttered,
"I need a drink."
A/N: I told you this one would be long. I aim to please ;D Next chapter will be the last one. Hope you've enjoyed. :)
