Talk:Where Legal Eagles Dare: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions
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Just now, a cross-eyed, black-toothed, puck-faced peasant limped along the boards with a pail of slops. She tossed out chicken bones left and right and ladled mouldy porridge to grasping beasts who slobbered through the slats. | Just now, a cross-eyed, black-toothed, puck-faced peasant limped along the boards with a pail of slops. She tossed out chicken bones left and right and ladled mouldy porridge to grasping beasts who slobbered through the slats. | ||
[[Ramsay Punchface]] looked up and gingerly approached the filthy | [[Ramsay Punchface]] looked up and gingerly approached the filthy contractor. She stopped and looked back at him for an uncomfortable period, as if undecided whether to be amused, irritated or malevolent. At length, she settled on amused. She said, “Whatta fucka ''you'' wanna? Wanna-you some chicky, ah?” | ||
She fished a chicken bone from her bucket and tossed it at Ramsay’s feet. He couldn’t tell if she was being serious until she roared at the joke. | |||
Just as he began stammered out an oily yuck to move the vibe along, she ''stopped''. “Well, amigo, whatta you gotta?” | |||
Ramsay held out his tote bag. “I caught these.” | Ramsay held out his tote bag. “I caught these.” | ||
The onboarder snatched the bag and up-ended it, dumping a handful of a small, rabbit-like | The onboarder snatched the bag and up-ended it, dumping a handful of a small, rabbit-like animals into the dust. Their legs were loosely bound and they wriggled and whimpered. She grunted, and turned each over carefully with her boot. “Littl’uns, innit?” | ||
“They’re segregated cells. J ... J ... Jersey. I think.” | “They’re segregated cells. J ... J ... Jersey. I think.” | ||
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“Heh. Lil runty fellas. Any good?” | “Heh. Lil runty fellas. Any good?” | ||
The old man grabbed the rabbity thing, sniffed it, drawing its aroma deeply, an action from which he derived no small pleasure, inspected the animal’s fur closely through the monocle, taking it in his fingers, picking out imperfections. “Meh.” He peered into its ears, yanked open its mouth, inspected its teeth. Finally, he pulled, a stout wooden device from his tunic and held it up against the animal. | The old man grabbed the rabbity thing, sniffed it, drawing its aroma deeply, an action from which he derived no small pleasure, inspected the animal’s fur closely through the monocle, taking it in his fingers, picking out fleas, or dirt, or imperfections. “Meh.” He peered into its ears, yanked open its mouth, inspected its teeth. Finally, he pulled, a stout wooden device from his tunic and held it up against the animal. “Heh. It’ll do,” he said, “but it’s not exactly going to make the quarter. It’s a bit scrawny.” He scratched his chin. “Call it a three. Yes; a low priority three.” He tossed the first one in the smallest pen. | ||
“A ''three''?” Ramsay quailed. "But Jersey [[Oik]]s are a key business priority!” | |||
“Maybe so, soldier, but that's not an Oik. That’s an [[Sociedade Gestora de Participações Sociais|esgiepieyes]] from Madeira. Superficially similar to [[Oik]]s, but their milk yield is poor and it’s a bit sour, but it will nourish you juniors all right.” | “Maybe so, soldier, but that's not an Oik. That’s an [[Sociedade Gestora de Participações Sociais|esgiepieyes]] from Madeira. Superficially similar to [[Oik]]s, but their milk yield is poor and it’s a bit sour, but it will nourish you juniors all right.” | ||