From: friedman@news.cis.ohio-state.edu (Mark  Friedman, Crimson)
Subject: Three of a Perfect Pair [part 02/21]
Organization: The Ohio State University Department of Computer and Information Science
Date: Wed, 29 Jul 1992 09:35:09 GMT

	Freddy rubbed his aching head as his eyes adjusted to the
gloom.  He spotted several people waiting and watching the others as
they filtered in.  Finally, when all of the people seemed to have
arrived, an old lady (looking somewhere in her 50's) entered the room.
"I'm Mrs. Travis.  I'm your employer.  I believe introductions are in
order, so we'll just start with you - in the corner."

	"Cryminee", Freddy muttered, "We're in bloody grade school."
A samurai near him silently chuckled.  Freddy rubbed the bump on his
head again, thinking "I *really* don't need this..."

	First up at  bat was "X"  ("Brilliant  name,"  Freddy thought,
"Probably picked it from his  ABC's book.."),  a pretty heavily cybered
norm male.  He appeared to be around 30 years old, around 6' tall, and
around 200 lbs.   He has obviously cybered  muscles and a few gadgets,
like a datajack and hand  razors.   He appeared calm,  detatched,  and
mysterious, just like the good action trids depicted all samurai.

	Next was "Rawhide": more muscle, just like X, but minus the
jack.  He seemed more cold, though, with a rather grim expression on
his face.  Freddy turned away from him ("Man, he must hold the patent
on IcyStare(tm)!  Shit that man is frigid...") to the next 'runner...

	A voice in the back spoke up and Freddy glanced over to notice
a dwarf that was almost lost in Rawhide's shadow.  He introduced
himself as Mortis. He was short and stocky ("Ain't they all, though?")
and also fairly heavily cybered: 3 datajacks, a row of chipjacks,
chromed cybereyes, and a vehicle rig.  He was obviously the rigger of
the group ("Awww, now *that's* cute..." Freddy thought, "A rigger
named Mortis.  I'll bet he's a *real* laugh at parties, fer sure...")

	And then there was Freddy, who really wasn't in the mood for
this petty crap.  He walked away from the wall into the center of the
room and half-grunted, "I'm Klone Crimson.  Everyone leave me alone,
and we'll get along just fine".  He turned away and went back to lean
against the wall muttering "Man this sucks..."

	Standing next to him was an elf, who introduced himself as
"Rael".  He wasn't a muscle-man, but there seemed to be a certain
grace to him.  As he stepped back, Freddy heard someone mutter
"fuckin' dandelion eater".  He couldn't see who it was, exactly, but
it really pissed him off.  Well, the five screwdrivers helped too.  He
stepped forward again...

	"Hey pasty-boy, if I find out which one of you said that, I
might pawn off your testicles to this one orc shaman I know.  Hell,
since you can't insult someone to their FACE, I doubt if you even HAVE
any balls!"  Some of the shadows snickered, some growled.  Crimson
could really care less.  He walked back to the wall cursing "those
Humanis bastards..."  He sat down on the floor during the rest of the
introductions, nursing his buzz.  He mused, "Tough talk for a
decker/musician wannabe.  Then again, it's the alchohol that's doing
most of the talking..."

	Next was more muscle (a man calling himself "Howler", the only
name Freddy liked from the whole group), and last in line was "Grace".
She was tall with long red hair and blue eyes and seemed rather
distant.  Freddy thought he recognized her from somewhere: he seemed
to remember something on the trid a year ago about a (chick) student
getting expelled for setting fire to the president of MIT&M
(Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Magic).  Then again, he
*swore* he saw her once in some nudie magazine.  Or maybe it was both?
Anyway, he'd have to ask later...

	As the introductions were finished, Mrs. Travis got down right
to business.  As it turned out, she and her husband were the owners of
Tacoma Bob's Fast Flicks, a pretty popular (and pretty successful)
chain of porn theaters.  She went into great detail how they built
them up from nothing ten years ago to the 34 trid-theatres they owned
today.  "But now, he's demoted me from vice-prez to shift manager,"
she grimaced, "and he doesn't think I know about *HER*," she scowled,
"*and* about the money he's been embezeling."  She clenched her thin
hands into knotty fists.  "So I want you to help me steal it back and
teach him a little lesson.  So, how about it?"

	Freddy summed up the whole thing as a little greed, a little
jealousy, and a *lot* of money.  He swaggered forward and gave his
response.  "Sorry, but I got a gig tonight.  If ya really want me,
I'll be out at the bar.  We'll talk terms later..."  Freddy smiled to
himself as he made his way to the hidden door.  He knew nobody in the
room could could punch a deck, let alone tie their own shoes.  But he
was going to have some fun first...

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Everything presented   here is Copyright by  Mark  Friedman  1991, all
rights reserved.  Well, that's  not entirely true!   Basic  story plot
and Matrix help was by Jerry Weiler, but he won't mind: I'm giving him
all the profits from the venture. Let's see, what's 100% of $0.00? :-)

Any questions, comments, requests, criticisms, and Chapman Sticks will
be accepted and appreciated at the address in the sig.

					- Mark "Crimson" Friedman

Mark "Klone Crimson" Friedman is friedman@cis.ohio-state.edu .................
"There is nothing former   "Beat poets,    "If you put a hungry ferret in your
 about King Crimson."       not children."  trousers, he'll run around..."
 - Robert Fripp, 5/11/90    - anonymous     - Nigel Tufnel (Spinal Tap)
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo