Chokeville

 

What Vultures · 01
Unusual Equipment

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Hogwild is in his apartment at the bottom of the ocean, ponderously shaving with a straight razor. He reads the fortune tucked into the mirror: YOU HAVE AN UNUSUAL EQUIPMENT FOR SUCCESS. USE IT PROPERLY. LUCKY NUMBERS 8, 11, 19, 21, 24, 36. He smiles at himself, then stretches the smile horribly wide. “You handsome devil,” he says through the grimace.

He slaps on some aftershave, leans in to give his hairline a once-over, checks his teeth. His silk boxers go ssst ssst as he walks over to the closet. He considers the row of monochromatic suits and is about to make a selection when the wall intercom buzzes.

He presses the button and says: “Maggie.”

“Hoggy,” Margaret Feddema says, her voice crackling with distortion.

“What are you wearing.”

“Not this time. Got a Mister Horn job for you.”

“Good,” Hogwild says. “That means I can work the delts.”

“Hard to tell what the fisticuff level will be on this one. Looks like a wait-around to me, but Horn’s always a grey area. The Item’s waiting for you at the Delphi.”

“What are you wearing.”

“Nary but a monocle. It is Thursday.”

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Backwall Greens

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©MMX · Joshua Allen


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