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Description
Uncountable neon signs shed their blinding lights on the wet, reflecting asphalt and illuminate the half-dead bodies of the junkies, losing themselves in the depths of the Comweb. Open-source oblivion for everyone with a com-link and a few friends in the right circles.

Last night some puddles of acid rain formed on the weary ground, starting to hissingly create their own miniature riverbeds and quite quickly eat through any sole or foot that dares to touch these unholy waters.

As I turn into a nearby alley, strangely empty except for a few dumpsters. I know that they are out there, so I the footsteps behind me don’t really surprise me. The cold poke of a gun in my back does.

“Puny earthling, you have been chosen for extensive researches on Kre-Zeck to serve the needs of our mighty leader.” (a bit further away another voice eerily chants the words “Miiiiighty leaaaaader!”)

A bunch of very tense seconds pass. Sweat rolls down my cheek and drips into my grey, long beard.

“I doubt you want to probe an old man. Not very sexy flesh on these hips.” I gently clap my butt and turn around grinning, to see Bob and Bert in all their green-skinned and black-eyed questionable beauty, laughing their non-existent asses off.

“You dirty alien slugs. Should’ve sent you to Area 51 when I was able to. Wanna get somethin’ to drink now or do you want to continue passing your time scaring an old man to death?”
I scratch my beard as they both put their arms on my shoulders and we walk to one of the cheapest bars in the entire macropolis to get wicked drunk.

Later that night we shall find out that neither of us brought any money, resulting in a little shoot-out. Grinning and laughing we will jump out of the window and flee, remembering a similar scene from our childhood.
It’s great to have friends like these in a world this broken.

Description
Uncountable neon signs shed their blinding lights on the wet, reflecting asphalt and illuminate the half-dead bodies of the junkies, losing themselves in the depths of the Comweb. Open-source oblivion for everyone with a com-link and a few friends in the right circles.

Last night some puddles of acid rain formed on the weary ground, starting to hissingly create their own miniature riverbeds and quite quickly eat through any sole or foot that dares to touch these unholy waters.

As I turn into a nearby alley, strangely empty except for a few dumpsters. I know that they are out there, so I the footsteps behind me don’t really surprise me. The cold poke of a gun in my back does.

“Puny earthling, you have been chosen for extensive researches on Kre-Zeck to serve the needs of our mighty leader.” (a bit further away another voice eerily chants the words “Miiiiighty leaaaaader!”)

A bunch of very tense seconds pass. Sweat rolls down my cheek and drips into my grey, long beard.

“I doubt you want to probe an old man. Not very sexy flesh on these hips.” I gently clap my butt and turn around grinning, to see Bob and Bert in all their green-skinned and black-eyed questionable beauty, laughing their non-existent asses off.

“You dirty alien slugs. Should’ve sent you to Area 51 when I was able to. Wanna get somethin’ to drink now or do you want to continue passing your time scaring an old man to death?”
I scratch my beard as they both put their arms on my shoulders and we walk to one of the cheapest bars in the entire macropolis to get wicked drunk.

Later that night we shall find out that neither of us brought any money, resulting in a little shoot-out. Grinning and laughing we will jump out of the window and flee, remembering a similar scene from our childhood.
It’s great to have friends like these in a world this broken.