Night 50: M21-M30 Hallway
O.K., what had made it back with him. Pipe, flashlight, toolbox? All present and accounted for. The kit had a few new dents in it, courtesy of one exploding lab bench, but the hinges still open and shut. He didn't need it tonight. A bottle of mixed pharmaceuticals extracted from it was enough in case something tried to eat them or Scarecrow's brain gizmo went haywire. Then the rest of his crap. The radio he tied to a belt-loop with the duct tape that had secured it to the toolbox. It swung like an construction worker's hammer holster, but it held. That completed the stylish anarchist's ensemble.
Right. One secret decoder ring that would teleport him to what, a pantry? If he believed the Head Bastard in the first place. Which he mostly did. There had to be a catch, but it would work as advertised. Maybe summon a stack of mutated Gila monsters to go with the overtrusting consumer. Still, he wrapped it in a bit of ex-T-shirt and stuffed it in his pocket.
Time to go set up for movie night. Maybe the damn ring would come in handy. Popcorn was a requirement if he couldn't manage beer and/or nitrous on short notice. Or pizza. 1-800-Dial-A-Zombie. Don't order anything with meat on it -- keeps it obvious if the delivery boy sheds on the merchandise.
[to here]
Right. One secret decoder ring that would teleport him to what, a pantry? If he believed the Head Bastard in the first place. Which he mostly did. There had to be a catch, but it would work as advertised. Maybe summon a stack of mutated Gila monsters to go with the overtrusting consumer. Still, he wrapped it in a bit of ex-T-shirt and stuffed it in his pocket.
Time to go set up for movie night. Maybe the damn ring would come in handy. Popcorn was a requirement if he couldn't manage beer and/or nitrous on short notice. Or pizza. 1-800-Dial-A-Zombie. Don't order anything with meat on it -- keeps it obvious if the delivery boy sheds on the merchandise.
[to here]