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   Chapter 8 No.8

Loderunner By Christina Engela Characters: 4596

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:02

They sat down at a small table with a bottle and two glasses on it. He checked the label. It was Falling Sherry, a recent addition to the local liquor stores, named after the incident that had taken place about a year previously, when an orbiting cargo ship dropped a superkeg of Samorian sherry onto an invading Ruminarii warship that landed at the space port. Square on target too. It went clean through the aliens' hull and burned so brightly it could be seen from orbit, effectively ending the invasion. Amazing, the entrepreneurial spirit on Deanna. 100 proof, in fact.

"So tell me the truth." said Timaset at last, savoring the powerful aroma of the el cheapo hooch as he allowed it to dribble down his tingling throat. "Why didn't you just sell the ship?" He asked, suppressing a cough.

"I did try." Said Deire. "But honestly, mister Skooch if you were looking to buy a ship – would you buy it?"

Tim hesitated.

"There – you see? There's yer answer. Not a single taker! Not a one!"

"Hmm." He said. Deire had a point. Theoretically he wasn't bound to take ownership of the thing, but one thing was clear – he needed some bucks, just one lucky break. Perhaps this could be it. Maybe he could get rid of it somehow, in a way that was profitable. Just one lucky break, that's all he needed. On the other hand, he couldn't shake the feeling he was being conned, j

ining the frying pans (and the knife drawer) were still closed. He was keeping a clear path between him and the front door anyway, just in case. He tried to sugar coat it with the whole schpiel about how much he loved her and how he was going to do this for them and how much they could make out of just one trip. But she just got mad anyway. Not that Dory was possessive or anything, she just hated being apart from him for long. That and having her routine disrupted.

He sometimes tended to think it was more of the latter than the former, but that was usually just when he was recovering from one of their block-famous fights. Old Mrs. Ransom across the hall once boasted she was going to sell tickets – or 'ring-side seats' as she put it. Of course the best thing about the fights was when they made up again. (Which was also something Mrs. Ransom wanted to sell tickets for, but would never get the chance.)

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