@Kafka Komedy@Krayzikk@Plank Sinatra@WriteSasori and Co. Investigations"It's the flat," replied the shamus, shaking his head as he plonked himself down on a chair. "Bots took a bunk and ain't no copper was able to drop the hook. We got the real Chinese angle here, and boy, do I feel like a dumb onion."
He wasn't going to grab air yet, but right now the caper was seriously behind the eight-ball. Yoshinori Sasori hadn't expected it to be pretty pat, but with the bot hooey and signs of foreign mitts slinking around town, there were going to be some white nights in his future. It was a real stuss-game of a bajoomah - Chūō Shinkansen brand of stuss-game - and if he made a beef in any way, both him and the kids could end up in a jam.
"The queer-looking sap's still here," he continued, reaching over to his table and pulling the blue cloth off the strange shape that had been sitting upon the wooden surface. Bam. A shrivelled-up mess, a facsimile of something human, entrapped within a device that seemed to have once glowed and pumped. Its "flesh" was a freakish, pale white, and the disembodied arms sitting on the table next to it where too. A face covered by a
mask that had cracked recently. It was something that looked like it'd once been a floater downriver. "No soap with him though. The bird's gone off like some fairy and hasn't dropped a dime, so she hasn't helped me rat anything either."
He immediately threw the cloth back over. Kids didn't need to see the ugly mug for too long. He didn't want to either.
"Been thinking of nabbing my contacts for their brains," Yoshinori said finally, scratching the back of his neck. "Because I'll be level with you kids. This dingus has to be the work of '
the foreign talent'."
Plank Sinatra
Onarax