*JeeTeeOh* Posted Oct 19, 2011, 4:50 pm	Nate 'Nate-O' Vaughn walks in, muttering to himself about dumb luck and better him than me, and sits down at the bar. "What's up Nato?" asks Joe. "Man... man, oh man. You see that crash on the closed-circuit?" "Yeah. One o' yers?" "Weber. He's the only Cowboy 'round here cept for me. Well, he was. I'm pretty sure he gets 'Most Wicked Cowboys Crash Ever' tattooed on his headstone. That was freakin' hairy. Heck, I don't think he even made a quarter mile. Somerset better send me some backup. I'm a gunner, and I can't do these tracks proppin' up a charred corpse next to me and tyin' his hands to the wheel." "On the house," says Joe as he slides a double cactus shot in front of Nate. "Better him than you. Always liked you better anyway." "Yeah, if I'da been drivin' you'd be sayin' the same to him right about now." "Yep." Nate-O sips his drink while Joe wipes the counter. Another race flickers over the closed circuit. [[150mph multi-car flaming fatality starts around turn 12. event 167391]]
Juris Posted Oct 20, 2011, 12:58 am	Ens. Jacobs - former stripper turned pro-racer, overhears the conversation. Bitter at being consigned to EL to rot after losing the top racing post to Fawn Hess in SS, she asks one of her many suitors to buy Nate another drink. Raising a glass she toasts "To Nate, welcome to EL honey, land of the misfit toys. I suggest you take up a hobby to spend the time. Myself I'm a frigging nurse now, pretty soon I'll be a full fledged surgeon." She erupts in girlish laughter.
Joel Autobaun Posted Oct 20, 2011, 3:07 am	"Boss" Ross, Leader of "Joel's Bastards" happens to be in Elms, happens to be at Joe's Bar, happens to be sitting with the local bastard racer Lucas "Emo Kid" Southard and some other bastards currently attending the clinic for the depraved and debaucherous. Nothing is said at the table, except some uncomfortable glances thrown  Lucas' way, and one apologetic one...
Xabbuto sam@psychicsoftware.com Posted Oct 20, 2011, 6:42 am	Leroy Frank, head surgeon for Uncle Al's walks into the "bar" mumbling to himself something about those damn, dumb, dangerous gangers that he works on. looking at the tele on the way to get a shot he see's the wreak and thinks to himself, thank god!, one less to put back together. Then he thinks to himself "Leroy, you are getting much too cynical for your own good". Hello nate, he says as he sits at the bar and signals for a double. "Looks like you are flyin solo for a while, eh? that was a brutal one for sure!!!" "one more double and time to meditate barkeep" he says while settling into a corner booth for his normal daily rest session, trying to forget the endless cycle of body parts and bodies that each and every day brings him in his training sessions at the hospital........