It's been a "ruff" three weeks. Just a little dog boy humor from ol' Jack. Lemme tell ya, there ain't much to laugh at these days, except maybe Vic's antics, but ol' Jack is gettin' ahead of himself.

As I said, it's been three weeks since the walls came down around Firetown. Firetown... meh, might as well call it Firetown Prison. Things are starting to get bad. People are getting sick, and there isn't a damn thing Doc or any other sawbones can do. 

Once the initial shock of what happened wore off, we set to work gathering resources we'd need and fortifying our position in the hotel. Doc and I scrounged for food, water, plastic sheeting, and duct tape. We didn't know what that crap the drones were spraying was, but we didn't want to find out the hard way either. Fer busied herself with sealing off the windows, while Vic locked down the floor we were on using his hacking mumbo jumbo. Once all that was done, ol' Jack went for a drive.

Wanted Level: 10

Lemme tell ya, Vic’s buddies have a knack for getting the Prophets into more trouble than we can get into on our own.  Naturally when one of them wanted to meet with Vic about “something big” the rest of us tagged along. Like usual it was a goddamn set-up.

Fer's sister was not happy about having a crate of Naruni weapons in the basement, and probably even less so about having a crate full of Pre-Rifts contraband. Ol' Jack knows from personal experience the latter would get the Coalition's dander up more than a crate of weapons. Needless to say she wanted it out of the Top Hat ASAP.

Last night the Coalition was obviously in a snit. Rumors were flyin' all over the place this "morning" of a huge CS strike in the East Side of the market. Just goes to show you that even when we try to fly under the radar there's other whackjobs out there workin' to make life just a bit more difficult for the rest of us. Thanks a lot jackasses.

Ol' Jack really needs to beef up the security on his electronic logbook. I opened it to make a journal entry and the damn thing was infested with squirrel porn. I tell ya, Vic is screwed in the head. He laughed his ass off when ol' Jack confronted him about it. The other prophets thought it was funny too. Hilarious. Her's a tip from ol' Jack when you got a buddy with a screw loose who's a bit to handy with a computer, you just do what ol' Jack did and threaten to bite the offender in some very uncomfortable places unless he fixes the shit.

Still working to acquire the shipment from the Brain Eaters, the Mad Hatters that comprise the Prophets of Payne crew split up and worked their own angles.

Ol' Jack hung around the park hopin' to catch the Brain Eaters in the act of grabbin' people. It turns out that Ol' Jack's nose for trouble was spot on because a few of those wastes of space from the Brain Eaters showed up a short while later. Ol' Jack being the good boy that he is, shadowed those maggots all the way to Jake's Farm. I wasn't about to go in there so I set up shop on the roof of an empty warehouse within viewing distance of the farm and watched.

Lemme tell ya somethin' ol' Jack Russell works some late nights runnin' pizzas and other stuff for the Top Hat, so when it comes time for some shut eye, once ol' Jack has turned around three times and laid down on his bed, ol' Jack doesn't want to be woken up until the damn alarm clock goes off.