The San Saba Snail Races - Part 1!

Don’t miss the LIVE RACE FOOTAGE starting around 5:40! (and the sound effects are pretty great too…)

Johnny Atom here! Standing in the pastoral fields of Widow’s Peak overlooking the holding pens where some of the finest, and largest, specimens of snail-kind are shuffling their pseudopods in excitement to take off! 

For those of you listening at home, I would like you to close your eyes and imagine the scene. Gleaming gastropods in every direction, each with their teams of drivers, feeders, medical support staff and guards, ready to brave the wastes in pursuit of the prestigious San Saba cup, and potentially, the Pentacle Crown!

This long-distance race is the first of its kind to be attempted in the San Saba, and while some of the elders of this Quiet Folk community are shaking their heads at the ruckus, I must say, some of these young people seem very keen indeed to get out and see the world atop the back of their shelled charges!

In a few minutes, the starting pistol will fire, and the first leg will begin! Each leg of this race awards its own trophy. Our team of titanic terrestrial mollusks will ooze their way around the San Saba Territories, from Widow’s Peak, to Waking, to Prudence Penitentiary, to the Clutch, then Essex, finally crossing the finish line in the town of Bravado! The racing team who comes in first in the most legs of the race will be awarded the shiny San Saba Cup. Should a single snail manage to sweep all five legs, (deeply ironic as they have no legs of their own), then we might even see someone walk away with the Pentacle Crown! 

Today begins the Longwalker Derby, the first leg of the Cup where our friends will glide their way from Widow’s Peak to the shining city of Waking to the northeast. Did you know that a properly fueled snail can move up to 10 miles a day? I didn’t! Did you know that many snails are carnivorous? I did. Found that out the hard way… let’s just say a racing snail is a hungry snail… anyways! some of these contenders look like they might just set some new records!

And now, let’s introduce the teams competing in this leg of the race!

First up we have SNAILLOW HOPE, sponsored by the Fallow Hope of Bravado! This handsome fellow is painted with the Fallow Hope symbol on his army drab shell, and I gotta say, that paint job is handsome! It’s a bit far to pick it up, but there are quite a few well-armed folks in Snaillow Hope’s pen, chanting “Snaillow, snaillow, snaillow. Here comes the Fallow!” and I heard they even gave their snail a proper Fallow Hopes baptism to ensure that, should they encounter any hellfire in the course of this race, he will be properly protected!

Next on the starting line, with a fetching bright red shell painted with a white Ram’s silhouette is JUBMO SLUSSY. Fun fact, snails don’t have horns, those things on top of their heads are tentacles that provide sensory information! I am sure Jubmo can hear the chanting of their team “Ram… Guard! Ram… Guard! Ram… Guard! RAMGUARD!” I certainly can! 

Moving down the line we have THUNDER TAI- er….. DOUBLE T! Sponsored by the Shields of the Lonestar and wearing a star emblazoned on its blue shell, this energetic specimen seems to be doing a last minute feeding on some infectious material. I can’t believe they eat that stuff, but apparently herds of giant snails have been known to take down zed, and even raiders when hungry. Their fans are chanting “OooooOOOOOoooo Thunder!” but if I have to watch this thing eat in front of me I might have to change that to “Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh Thunder!” That’s a LOT of teeth and slurping!

Moving along before I lose my lunch, we have a snail so emblazoned in corporate sponsorship that you can barely see its shell! Ms. Felicity Redfield may have lost some of her infection, but she certainly hasn’t lost access to her pocketbook! Either way, SLIM MARGINS looks ready to zoom to the profit… er finish line with a flush of speed! You can almost hear the investors chanting “Return on Investment!” in its wake. 

Next up is a rather sinister looking snail, draped in black bunting. This is the hometown hero, the Lovelace Family’s very own champion who has been sweeping local races for the last few weeks. The WIDOWMAKER is fed solely on a diet of rare herbs and raw murdergoatdeer meat. Absolutely the betting favorite behind the barn, Widowmaker is set to make his owners a pile of brass, and even more in stud fees in the next breeding season! I asked some of the local Lovelace race attendees if there was a cheer for Widowmaker but they just stared at me… quietly… terrifying!

Finally we have… oh my gutmother is that an ENGINE strapped onto that snail? That is. Vados and Gentleman there is a full mastercrafted V8 engine and a massive rifle mounted onto this mollusk! There’s only one crew this snail could be sponsored by… yes… it’s TURBO SNAIL. I understand this snail has been baptized with the music of the road and if the giant 6 painted on its side is any indication, it can probably break most landspeed records. As the Road Royals say, “Turbo Snail is the best, Turbo Snail can beat the rest!”

Well and now we’re getting down to it, the race is about to begin! Looks like the Town Council of Widow’s Peak will be doing the honors here… Immacula stepping to the starting line as the snails slime their way into position. Gotta say, I’m glad it’s her holding that pistol and not Clauthia Lovelace to her right, I start sweating any time I see one of those veiled folks holding a weapon… and… 

SHOT FIRES

They’re off!.... 

…

Our front runners are about 3 feet from the starting line now and based on the side-eye some of those jockeys are giving each other it looks to be a real tense race! 

…

It’s really heating up out there folks… Slim Margins has made some tentacle gestures at Widowmaker that, ( I don’t speak snail), but which seem to be offensive. The jockey riding Double T just took out a picnic basket and seems to be settling in for a pleasant lunch up there. I’ll.. uh… report back when they get a little closer to Waking… 

Johnny Atom, signing off!

The Future of Drywater

Hey there Vados! It’s Jonathan here with one last update before the game this weekend - BEYOND THE HORIZON. We are going to talk about some mechanics regarding the new settlement of Drywater that you might see during our upcoming event. During this game, your characters will have the ability to influence the new Junkerpunk port of call by completing tasks for one of three factions. Which faction will you help unlock new items and blueprints to bring to our game?

While advanced ticket sales for the event are closed, you can still get tickets at the door!

The Drywater Settlement Package

The infant settlement of Drywater, just a few hours walk to the West of New Bravado’s extended territory, has begun to erect its first permanent structures and acquire its first permanent citizens. Queen Jasper, the sickly but politically powerful matriarch of the Antler clan, has come to New Bravado to oversee the perilous and brave process of sculpting a homeland from irradiated dirt. With the help of the Longberths, a faction of the Tribes Disparate who have historically butted heads with the smaller merchant faction, the scrap of land will become a dry port of call only rivaled by Waking Prime. 

During this next game, the Junkerpunk faction will achieve a major victory by constructing a new town near Bravado. This port will be a new future for the faction and realize the shared dreams of Admiral Sinker Swim and the Regent of the Tribes Disparate, Holy Mother Queen Jasper. However, any construction project of this magnitude cannot be completed by just one person. It takes a village, so the saying goes..

Luckily, three of the major factions of the San Saba have proposed a plan to help the new settlement: the Tribes Disparate, the Railroad Conglomerate, and the Grave Council. Each has their own motivations and reasons to be involved, but there’s really only enough space for one of them to really succeed. That’s where YOU come in!

drywater work orders

The one thing the factions lack in town is the labor necessary to help their cause. At the start of game, each player will have an option to take a DRYWATER WORK ORDER. This tasklist will give you a way to track your assistance to one of the the three factions. Scattered through our site will be TWENTY different tasks you can complete as part of this Work Order. These tasks will require you to complete Skill Challenges, expend item cards like scrap or herb, or use Mind and Body points towards your task.

• Every FOUR tasks you complete will earn ONE vote towards one of the three factions. Some of these tasks will be easier than others, so even brand new players can participate.

• Most Tasks can be completed ONCE per Twelves. That means you’ll be able to do some tasks more than once, but you’ll have to do multiple Tasks if you want to maximize your votes.

• Each character can cast up to FIVE total votes in your favor. There will be a few other ways to earn votes past the Work Orders, so keep your eyes open for opportunity!

• You can only submit one Drywater Work Order per character. If you want to play that alt, go right ahead — we will have additional Work Order forms at the Post Office.

Once you’ve completed as many tasks as you can, you can submit the finished Work Order to the Post Office to record your vote. You’ll choose one of the THREE unique Drywater Upgrades to put your votes toward, securing that faction’s inclusion into the new settlement.

So what do you get for all this hard work? Your investment in the new settlement of Drywater will help out Bravado in the future in a few specific ways:

Drywater Upgrades

The faction that succeeds in influencing new construction in Drywater will reap the benefits of the new trade routes, resources, and alliances with the Junkerpunks. Each faction has proposed an option for upgrading the town, and each option comes with its own unique benefits.

The Cali*Co-Operative Arsenal

Owned and Operated by the dependable Cali*Co Caravan, the *Co-Operative Arsenal will employ the local Junkerpunk population for the purpose of munitions development and production. Located on the scenic ridge that overlooks Drywater, the Arsenal will develop and produce munitions for the defense of the Greater San Saba and her citizens from the threat of zed, raider, or invading body.  Espoused by the Holy Mother Queen Jasper of the Tribes Disparate, the Arsenal is her final attempt at preserving the San Saba as the homeland of her people and their allies.

• This Drywater Upgrade will provide new regional Weapon, Armor, and Vehicle blueprints for trade with Bravado as the town develops.

The Redfield Boatel and Spa

This sumptuous lounge and resort will be just one stop down the Oxline from New Bravado and attract personages of affluence from across the Greater Wastes. Local Junkerpunks will make up the staff of the Boatel and Spa and be provided with a living wage, ongoing benefits, and housing. Located on the river, the Boatel and Spa will technically be a mobile living environment permanently docked at Drywater. The kitchens at the Redfield will produce highbrow brews and confections beyond anything the San Saba has seen so far, and are personally endorsed by Felicity Redfield, CEO of the Railroad Conglomerate.

• This Drywater Upgrade will provide new regional Brew, Meal, Gizmos, and Culinary blueprints for trade with Bravado as the town develops.

The Imix Institute

The closest GraveTech research facility is located in the Dead Marches, many miles to the distant south, beyond even the Blastlands.  To be placed in the middle of town as a multi-story cathedralex, the Imix Institute would employ and educate the local Junkerpunk population as researchers and volunteers in the ongoing effor to understand and benefit from the Mortis Amaranthine and the Grave Minds that lurk within it.  This project is endorsed by the leaders of the Grave Council, Takheeta Firstborn and Commander Rampart.  Research from this facility would likely produce compelling advances in Grave and Psi- technologies.

• This Drywater Upgrade will provide new regional Gravetech, Psionic, and Faith-related blueprints for trade with Bravado as the town develops.

Which faction are you going to put your support behind to help the new town of Drywater? How will you shape the future of the San Saba? Let’s find out this weekend, BEYOND THE HORIZON!

Girl Scout Cookies Update!

Hello friends! Quick add-on from Aesa!

We have two wonderful Girl Scout troops coming out this weekend to sell cookies on site, and, great news, you can now PRE-ORDER those cookies for pick up on either Friday or Sunday! Order using the links below. Select the Girl Delivery option and in the notes put ‘pick up at Camp Kachina’.

Troop 8226 Friday 4:30pm Pre-Order Cookie Pickup Link

Troop 21003 Sunday 11:00am Pre-Order Cookie Pickup Link

This will streamline the process and help ensure both troops have enough of each cookie on hand. Each troop will also have extras for those wanting to pay cash or waiting until they are there.

Let’s help support our site and our girls!

Reminder about Site Times

Re-posting these reminders from a few weeks back about when folks can be on site and where to stay.

COMING ON SITE

Unless you have special permission from staff or are part of our designated Setup Crew for that weekend, the time when you can come onto the site from the parking lot is 3pm on Friday. This applies to Guides as well. At 4pm players who pre-registered can pick up their character sheets and check-in at the Post Office. At 5pm players who did not pre-register can check-in. Read the full Weekend Itinerary here.

DRIVING ON SITE

Likewise, you can only drive on site if you have explicit staff permission. Everyone else needs to park in the parking lot and use a cart to bring their items on to and off of site.

MEDICAL AND NEW PLAYER SLEEPING ACCOMMODATIONS

Wigwam Cabin is our primary Med Sleep location. Wikiup is our primary New Player cabin. Last game we were overcrowded in these spaces. We do not want to have to start restricting who can sleep there further, or requiring medical notes, so please consider sleeping elsewhere if you are not a new player or require medical sleep accommodations.

Kiva is climate controlled and open to anyone. There are also many open-air cabins available in Hopi and Zuni, the platform tents in Tewa, and tent-space is available for those who want to bring their own tent. Some people choose to stay in hotels and air bnb’s off-site as well. If you just would like a Med Sleep note on your character sheet to sleep in a different location without interruption, we can accommodate that. Please email info@dystopiarisingtx.com.

Map of Camp Kachina

See you tomorrow!

Friendly Counsel

“...and we will have enough fuel to help the Sweetwaters move the equipment to Waking, but we will need to prepare for refueling costs there.”

Everyone was listening, she supposed, even if their body language said otherwise.  She smiled to herself, and continued. It was late, and even Shale was disinterested.  But it was the duty of the matriarch to lead by example, so Momma Rabbit paused for a moment to let the others realize their minds had been drifting.  It was subtle, but as a skilled fishmonger drove their fish to the net, so she rounded up their attention once more.

Children would be children. And children indeed were the royal attendees of this summit.  Lessons passed down from mother to mother in the Rabbit family always seemed to become useful in surprising ways, she mused. 

The rest of the regents were gathered around the map of The Lands Bravado, listening with at least half an ear to her update on current events.  It was challenging enough getting the regency of the Tribes Disparate in the same room for quorum, much less keeping their attention throughout.  They would have to wait until the Summit to get the entirety of the thirteen regents in one place. For the handful she had here today, this was a necessary meeting.  An army marches on its stomach, her mother always said. “The DJs needed fuel to continue playing their part in all this.” Momma Rabbit pressed now.

At the mention of this, Shale looked up.  It was the one thing the Queen didn’t seem to understand, but Shale was in his element in this moment.  He was the most interested in these council meetings, where strength of arms did not matter as much as strength of will.  Let the Queen pursue her wars, but Shale would lead from the council chambers. Momma Rabbit smiled to herself and at him.

“We can get the RRC to fund the expedition. The Antlers have been protecting the Ox’s move south, and they can’t afford us to redirect our forces somewhere else.”  she answered in response to Shale’s unspoken question. The regent of the Ox Killers glared at her mention, but stayed quiet for now.

The Texican regent put his boots up on the table and offered a different suggestion. Her kindly eyes darkened at this willful display of bad manners.

“Maybe the Conglomerate can make an offer too.” Sam said with a drawl. “The Ja Cintos have enough connections there.  The Minister don’t like dealing with the Railroad any more than necessary. We’re all here for the Queen first, not the Commission.”  The regent of the Ja Cinto Militia surely meant well, but Momma Rabbit sighed internally at his aggressive tone.

“Sam, you know as well as I do the contracts we’ve signed.” Momma Rabbit countered. She tsked at him and brushed his feet off the table.  He sheepishly apologized, as she wiped the dirt off the map. He was a good lad, if he could only remember his manners.

“Fuck the contracts.”  The Torchlight regent’s gravely voice was barely a whisper, but when they spoke, the primitive filter on their mask made it impossible to sense any real emotion.  The Lascarian could be expected to provoke the fight further.

Another argument. This night was not getting any closer to being finished. 

The other regents acted predictably. The Ox Killers had a grudge, and their regent banged his fist on the table in support of the Torchlight’s suggestion.  The Ja Cintos would eventually back her if she could make her case, and maybe the Long Berths. The DJs of the Sweetwaters needed the work to keep the clan happy, so they would be on board when it came time for a vote.

“We trusted the sun-dwellers’ promises before. It cost us everything. Why should we continue to support them?”  the Lightbearer, for someone with such a name, spent so much of his time focused on the darkness of the past. It was frustrating. She smoothed her skirts as the others chimed in. The Torchlight regent was unnerving, but they are family too, she reminded herself.

“I say just let them deal with the Firebrands on their own. We have our own issues to solve. The storm always passes.” The Long Berth captain spoke.  They had their own problems with the Junkerpunks, to be sure.

“The Great Wheel will turn our way again, my friends. Sometimes we lead, sometimes we follow.” Words of wisdom spoke from the greasy road captain, younger than his wisdom suggested. The DJ could be counted to come to her support. Momma Rabbit smiled fondly at the Sweetwater regent. They understood the need for allies in these times.  And he was always so careful to avoid leaving the coat of dust and grime, that perpetually seemed to follow him, on her nice table.

“This was the Queen’s will, long may she reign.” she reminded them. “Her vision is what brought us all together.”

“For now.”  The Ox Killer regent spoke softly, but everyone heard his words.

She gasped. The Ox Killers could be so obstinate, but the challenge was clear.  His eyes glared at Shale, and she could see the Torchlight leader nodding too.

“The Queen is with us eternally, and especially right now. Whether you like it or not. Long live the Queen.” she replied.

The Ox Killer smiled viciously. His teeth were filthy. 

“Long. Live. The. Queen.” he said with a smirk, drawing out each syllable in a mocking, frustrating way

Momma Rabbit puffed up, and struggled to maintain her composure.  She readied her best stern glare and prepared to rebuke the man.

Shale broke the tie before the argument could escalate.

“I understand your hesitation, but this helps the Tribes in the future.  The Queen has seen fit to choose each of you.” He looked pointedly at the Ox Killer regent, and continued. “But it appears that I am the deciding vote.”

Shale stood up, wearily, and pointed to the map in front of them.

“The further the RRC depends on the might of the Antler tribe and all of our combined strengths of the Tribes Disparate, the more prepared we are for our eventual rise. The world is changing, and we must be prepared for that new future. Let them build their railways. Let them focus on the ruins in the Bravado camp.  We have always been about our people, the common folk, and those that have been forgotten. It is through our differences we succeed, but it is through our Queen we triumph. Long may she reign.”

Prince Shale cast his gaze around the room, and each of the regents realized the truth of his words, one by one.  Even the Torchlights and the Ox Killers. No challenge would be accepted now.

Mother Rabbit beamed at Shale.  Another argument settled. The Tribes might fight, but they each meant well.

“Long live the queen!” The regents echoed, some more readily than others.

It was enough. United for now, their voices rang into the evening, and into a new future.

---

A Tribes Disparate Vignette by J. Loyd

Read more about the Houses of the Tribes Disparate here.

Quota

Huckleberry leaned with arms crossed against the tree that tried and failed to provide shade to the cut that the work detail was mired in. The track they laid for the Ox was heavy; even the Irons strained under the weight of the rails and ties as they laid them down along the muddy ditch dug out by their peerage. The Law Dog’s eyes were locked on a particular digger, smaller than the rest, whose slower pace had held the work crew’s progress back from making quota for the last two weeks. Huckleberry had been told the shiftless drudge’s name, but he hadn’t cared enough to commit it to memory. Once he’d seen the dude, the burly Iron had known which way this would go. 

The waifish Remnant handled his shovel clumsily. He was too small to leverage it properly, and anyone with sense could see he didn’t belong on this detail. The Commission had been clear that the work would be demanding. The contracts had specified the length of track that would need to be laid daily. Even the conditions The Commision expected had been researched and included in the formal agreement that every one of these miserable fucks had signed or made a mark for. Some of them couldn’t read. Like as not the Breacher was among those. But Huckleberry didn’t care. His pity for them as weren’t capable of looking out for themselves was nonexistent. Their eyes had all been full of currency, and this part, the negligence for their own ability, was a consideration that hadn’t occurred to the idiots.

At some point, the Breacher felt the Blood Hound’s eyes on him. He began to look up from his work periodically , his already abysmal pace lagged even more. The piss-reek of fear wafted in the air and Huckleberry curled his lip into a snarl at the stink of it. When the Breacher saw this, he flinched, as though the expression had reached out to strike him physically. Those toiling around him didn’t seem to take notice, but neither were it they that Huckleberry had his eyes on. In fact, to all but the Breacher, Huckleberry may as well not have existed. The Law Dog let his hand slide down onto the pommel the rifle holstered on his hip and down the length of his leg, and he let the Breacher see him do it. 

A few things happened next. The Breacher’s shovel hit at the wrong angle, and the distribution of his weight caused him to slip and stumble into his neighbor; a Retrograde digging at a much more acceptable pace than the Breacher. They both tumbled to the ground, and the second man fell against a third, an Iron who had been struggling in the rear of a line of lifters carrying rail up the cut. He lost his balance and the rest of the dominoes fell, along with the rail. All because of this useless little moron. It was the moment Huckleberry had been waiting for. The one he’d known would come. The moment when the cost in time that the Breacher represented overcame the meager contribution to the project. 

Huckleberry’s rifle had cleared the holster before the rail hit the ground, and the deafening crack of the shot split the air. The Breacher’s brains splattered against the mud and the diggers and lifters in the vicinity scrambled to make distance from the fresh corpse. Their eyes turned to Huckleberry as he slid the gun back home, waiting for an explanation, or instruction. Huckleberry let that linger long enough that the cost in time for their gawking wouldn’t outweigh the value of the intended message before he spoke. 

“Y’all’s all signed your contracts. Y’all’s all had quota. And y’all’s all had termination agreed to for missin’ it. Get the fuck back to work.”

And so they did.

A Law Dog Vignette by J. Newman

Sales Pitch

It was already over. They just didn’t know it yet.

The couple was seated in the ramshackle office outside the rail station, and the bustle of the camp outside was simply dim background noise.  The repeated clanging of the workers laying track outside was a spiking rhythm that cut through the walls, but the repetitive nature made it easy to tune out.

“Like I was saying, you both know that the Firebrands have been pushing further east.  There have been three reported attacks in the last week, and it’s all the Tribes can do to keep the railways clear.  I can only imagine the worry that has caused both of you.”

He leaned in a bit, and rolled up his sleeves, half-listening to their stories of raiders and zed.  A comforting smile, and he was back.

“The Railroad Commission wants to help ensure your safety.  With the upcoming construction of the greenline, it will be possible to get from Essex to Waking in just under a day.  The wastes have never been closer, or more connected. But I really feel like I need to ask you a question.”

One of the prospects took the bait.  “Sure, I guess?”

“Are you a man of vision?”

“Uh.  I think so?”

Sure he was. He moved in for the kill.

“No, I don’t just think so. I know so.  You knew the dangers out there, but you realized the importance of having a place to rest your head safely on the trip south.  It’s been profitable for your farm, and you’ve been able to reap the rewards of that foresight. You’ve set aside a nice nest egg for the future, and only a man of vision knows what it takes to protect their family and provide for their future.”

Here it comes.

“I think you are an honest man.  A reasonable man. You know the truth as well as I. The raiders and zed don’t stop. It’s only a matter of time before a horde is a little bit too big, or that steel door takes one too many hits to stay on the frame.  But you have options now, and that has to be such a good feeling to have.”

“Uh.. What do you mean by options?”

Gotcha.

“Opportunity, my friend.  Your farm is something that we at the RRC have a need for.  The engineers tell me we can shave off a month off the construction if we route past your farm. You’ve named your price, and I’m happy to say that the Commission decided it was worth the investment in our shared future.” 

The couple shared a glance to each other.  Of course they were impressed.

“We also have a shining new opportunity in the Bravado Camp.  You’ve heard about what we found there, haven’t you?”

Of course he had. Everyone had.

“The RRC is paving a path forward to the future.  Imagine a world where you don’t have to worry about those raiders breaking down the door, because you are safe in your bed, letting us keep watch at night.  This world is more connected that you can imagine, and there are opportunities that I know a man with your intelligence has already considered.” 

A little effortless flattery never hurt.

“Imagine a world where you can delve into the ruins to find fortune and glory, and then be back in Essex by nightfall to join your family for dinner.”

A gasp. Right on cue.  

An interested murmur between the two meant that he had sparked the man’s imagination.  A grin crossed his face, as he wrapped this one up.

“That’s not a fantasy.  It’s a reality.” The prospect leaned closer.

“I want to help you with this favor. Why stay in this farm, hoping you can survive another Burning Season, when you can help the Lonestar become something better?  Our contract will ensure that your investment in this farm is tripled. You will have the funds to provide a better life for you family, enough to fund your expeditions into the ruins, as well as a little left over.”

He pushed the contract forward, so the prospect could appreciate the sum that they were talking about.  A pittance really compared to what the RRC would gain from being able to build without a fuss from the locals.

“When this railroad is connected, thanks to your vision to know that selling your land now, while the moment is right, you will be part of something more.  Who could argue if you pocket a few extra Brass for yourself in the process?”

The prospect eagerly agreed. Who could blame him?  It was easy to be forward thinking when you were the one profiting.

“I’m so proud to have been part of this monumental contribution to our future. Thank you sir.  With your help, this great railway will connect the entirety of the Lone Star.”

He was particularly proud of how his eyes seem to water, seemingly overtaken by emotion at the idea of the prospect’s contribution.  Hook, line, and sinker.

“Just sign on the dotted line.  I’ll have Agnes go over the terms and conditions with you outside.”

A smile, a handshake, and it was over.  He grinned, and called for the next prospect.  Man, he loved this gig.

The future was bright indeed.

---

A Railroad Commission Vignette by J. Loyd