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Current Campaign Date:  1/26/2008   

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Rogue Prime, Part 2 - Stories

Post-Session: 28

A look at what happened during and/or after Session 28.

Story - Prison Food

Game Date: 5/24/2006
Location: San Francisco, California

Who: Prime

The wobbly cart was pushed slowly down the corridor. Every so often, the one bad wheel would stick and a sharp shove would be needed from the young man with a grease-saturated moustache much too large for his thin angular features who trudged steadfastly behind to get the cart moving again.

With each shove, the slippery glass plates, topped with steam-clouded clear plastic domes, would slide around the top of the cart. Occasionally, one would get just a bit too close to the edge, and the young man would tap it closer to the center with an idle flick of his wrist or bump of his elbow.

As the young man approached the imposing steel door, the brawny figure of a Warden security officer interposed himself. The young man politely replied, "Assistant cook and head dishwasher Rob Peppermill here to deliver the prisoner's supper, sir."

The security officer, his polished nameplate proudly announcing him to be Jack Murphy, eyed the kitchen helper for a moment, then waved him in. "Go ahead. The little beast is a lot less trouble after getting a good meal."

As Rob wheeled in the cart, he spied Prime engrossed in one of the many books that littered the floor of the superhero's small prison cell. Rob managed to suppress a grin as he reached under one of the plastic covers and pulled out a small bright yellow gun and took careful aim. As he was about to fire, Prime's tail lashed out, flicking one of the many books on the floor into the air - straight past the hapless cook's left ear. As Rob ducked, Prime tumbled forward, snatching the gun from Rob's hand and opened fire - releasing a thin stream of water as the squirt gun emptied its contents on the startled dishwasher.

Prime grinned as he chuckled, "Gotta be faster than that to catch Prime, Pep," before handing back the squirt gun. "So how's the chef treating you these days? Still getting the short end of the stick?"

Rob wiped off his face with his sleeve and replied, "Yeah. Thanks for that letter about the banana cream pies last month, by the way. Maestro Vladimir Putsch said the first positive thing about my cooking since I first started assisting him in the kitchen. Putsch's exact words were, I believe, 'you finally managed to satisfy a customer.'"

Prime sighed as he settled back down into his bed, "Yeah, that chef always struck me as a bit of a grouch. Half the time when I stop in for a quick snack, he ends up throwing cutlery as I race back out the door. Just because of that one time I added bananas to his tomato bisque. Well, and the time I added the chocolate syrup to the roast. But, as I carefully explained, it seemed like a good idea at the time..."

Rob chuckled a bit, "Oh, I remember that. Putsch's face turned as bright red as an apple. I thought he was going to have a fit of apoplexy right on the spot!"

Prime hopped back off the bed and rambled over to the cart, grimacing at the simple plain fare and small portions revealed as lifted the lids, "Geesh. Talk about bread and water. Only one slice of apple pie? Outrageous! And this steak is clearly medium-well when Putsch knows I prefer it medium rare. And do you call this shrimpy little thing a potato? Humph. I'm going to have to go have a talk with him right now! Er. Well. Fairly soon. That is, whenever I'm not locked in this room under armed guard. Er. Have you heard anything about why I'm in here, by the way?"

Rob shrugged, "Not sure. Apparently you borrowed one of the plane's to go on vacation without permission or, alternatively, were taken over by some alien life form who forced you to write bad TV scripts against your will. At least those are the two most popular rumors I've heard passed around by the rest of the staff.

Prime blinked in surprise, "By the great furry-toed creator of us all! So aliens DO exist. And they have been monitoring our television broadcasts. It all makes sense now..."

Rob held up one hand in a gesture to stop as he hastily added, "Prime, I really doubt anyone but the Wardens actually know what is going on and they haven't been telling the rest of us a thing. At least, not the kitchen staff. I'd wait to hear what they have to say before jumping to any conclusions."

Prime nodded slowly, "Oh well. I guess you're right. Any chance of you sneaking in a couple of banana pizzas with the next meal delivery?"

Rob shrugged, "I'll see what I can do, but Jack out there has a pretty sharp eye."

Record Last Changed Date: 8/22/2008

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