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On the Shelf: |
Behind the Counter: |
This Week's Special:
Cameron was
doing Albertine
and the drug nostalgiaed him to a time when he was huffing Formula 409. He had been
absent-mindedly stacking chemical equations and stumbled upon something
interesting but - then - was abducted by those velociraptor people. One of said
velociraptor people played a mean sax* and Cameron kinda' forgot about
hypothesised drug. Albertine having jogged memory, Cameron now-ish gets
caffeinated, cooks formula-of-yore and presses a hundred-odd pills. Marketing
calls it Substance 666.
It
gave Azrael
electric zig-zags between gnomes
dancing race war and anthropomorphic sheep offering superannuation advice. It
gave Magdalene
giggling fit inappropriate for birds eye view of hellfire ball sport where
rules changed every quarter. It did nothing for Michael. They
all tried Substance 666 again and experienced the exact same hallucinations, or
lack thereof, as before.
Cameron
forgot the chain of chemical equations again so - boom - scarcity. The demands
is, uh, well, hmm: everybody is born with a different spawn code, which
Substance 666 takes to town. Curiosity may prompt first taste but RNG
determines if the trip is worth taking again and how often.
Cameron
considered spreading free samples to tentacle potential markets, but then opted
to let market do the work. He will sell all the pills to someone who, after
trying their privy, may opt to hold or sell on. Cameron estimates Substance
666's shelf-life at three years, so the collection depreciates in value every
day every trade. The market, for time being, has FOMO of trips, if they miss
it, will be missed by all humanity.
That
market is Alexander.
Alexander is a
cowboy bureaucrat. He crosses the t's and dots the i's and is not afraid to
break a few rules doing it. He butts heads with co-workers or, rather, they
dodge his ten gallon hat, worn inside, but nobody denies his results. Lunch is
a steak sandwich and line of Bolivian.
A day of work leaves
Alexander's hands coated in a sticky yellow fluid. He collects this substance
in a basin installed at his desk for this purpose. Anybody who denies the
existence of Bureaucracy Honey simply is
not bureaucrating hard enough. They could also scrape the inside of a filing
cabinet.
A teaspoon of Bureaucracy
Honey, ideally stirred into tea, provides a +4% buff to accuracy for twelve
hours. 'Accuracy' is a vague term which can refer to:
·
Precision of
language
·
Correlation of
belief with reality
·
Skill with
firearms, or
·
all of the above
and then some
There is research underway
to develop an inhalable form.
Cameron
wants to be the one doing that research.
