Jump to Navigation

Joe Spivey's blog

 
Joe Spivey's picture

Joe In His Cups

It is the early hours of the morning in Beau's Tavern, Joe's after work watering hole. A good deal of the amber nectar has sluiced its way through Joe's less than perfect dentistry and his bloodstream is now luxuriating in an over abundance of drinks earned from his tall stories and endless gossip.


The room, and his drinking companions, have become nothing more than a blurred mish-mash of background colour and uninteligable noise. There is a lull in the conversation. That point in the flow of words where each participant is, for a few seconds, lost in their own thoughts. It is Joe who breaks the silence. He raises a finger.


"I saw a letter today, genelmem. From Lost...." He searches for the word, gives up. "... thingy. To Hyle.... wotsername. Saying she can have Victor... no, VEKtHaur all to her li..(hic). Her li...(hic). Her liddle self."


His three companions look first at each other and then back at Joe.


"Who's Lost?"

Joe Spivey's picture

Spivey's Independant Traders Handbill

Another handbill being handed out by an army of grubby urchins to anyone who stands still long enough.


f0up21.jpg

Joe Spivey's picture

Reluctant Messenger

Joe was whined at by a 'client' to deliver this to Subdane as a matter of extreme urgency. So Joe waits until he is absolutely sure nobdy sees him doing it and shoves it under Sub's windscreen wiper. He walks away happy, after all... chips is chips.


2ppeope.jpg

Joe Spivey's picture

... is made of this

Joe was up early the following morning. Actually, that's not true. Joe hadn't slept at all, nor had some of his cronies, but at least they had been well paid.

During the night Joe had had made a couple of hundred handbills. Crude and rushed though they were, they were sufficient for the job.

 

REWARD

Joe Spivey's picture

"Memories... are made of this."

It was late when Joe arrived back in Flag. He was tired, and aching from sitting all day in his car keeping an eye on the kid. At last the wafflehouse had closed and she had gone back to Hyle's house with her and her latest boyfriend. Joe waited until the house was in darkness.  She would be safe enough for the night. Trying not to think about how much trade he had lost today Joe turned the key in the ignition and then made his weary way home.

Joe Spivey's picture

Silence is Golden

A couple of days after the letter thing, Joe was emptying the kitchen trash when he found the tiny, skinned body of a kitten at the bottom of the pail.


He buried it in the alley.


The incident was never mentioned.

Joe Spivey's picture

Occupatio Interuptus

It was a normal day for Joe. Woke up at the crack of dawn, then spent  five minutes coughing his lungs into life like some old and neglected diesel engine. Then a quick breakfast (full English of course... or as close as one could get) followed by the first cigar of the day and a pint mug of tea while he went over yesterday's figures. Then it was off to the auctioneer to see what had sold and what hadn't from the previous day.


After he had collected the receipts he sat down in his packing-crate 'office' and worked out what he would need to buy to replace his stock. All a normal day so far. This changed as he walked to his car.

Joe Spivey's picture

Bloody Soup!

The two men stood outside a lone farmhouse on the outskirts of  the glorified garbage tip known as Needle Eye. For the 'Haves', behind their wall and their guards, life wasn't too bad... not great, but not too bad at all. For the 'Have Nots' life was defined simply as surviving from one day to the next. But non of this concerned the two figures on the little hillside. Well, except for the smell. Not all of which could be blamed on the town though.

Joe flicked through his copius notebook trying to decipher his hurriedly scribbled notes from the night before.

Joe Spivey's picture

Against the Grain

Joe is sitting in an almost empty Beau's at mid day enjoy a liquid lunch.


The barman, between scratching his buttocks and wishing it was his day off, was listening with proffesional interest to Joe's ramblings.


Joe neither realised or particularly cared one way or the other.


"A locksmith? Where the hell am I going to find a bleedin locksmith in this burg... in any burg?" He drains his pint and indicates with a nod that his empty glass needs a refil. "Not only that, but even looking for one kind of goes against the grain, know what I mean?"


The barman nods on cue, wondering if the new barmaid actually did that or if it was just wishfull thinking on the part of the guys. He glanced at the customer, who was still droning on.


Joe half emptied the refilled glass, wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his duster, then belched loudly before continuing.

Joe Spivey's picture

A New Biginning?

Joe has been spreading the word. Talking to people with contacts. Even travelling to Picus to post notices.


Vekthaur, the retired Baron of Le Cartel has come out of retirement and started a new family. "The Vegas family"... and he is recruiting.


He is also looking for specialists. Accomplished scientists and technicians who are wanted for a special project. Vekthaur will pay well for their services, but if you are not top class... an expert in your field, don't bother.

Joe Spivey's picture

Faning the flames

The heavily armoured man stood uninterested by the mailbox reading a letter. Not that his lack of interest or even the acknowledgment of his existance worried Joe in the slightest. He carried on with his story anyway.


""Would you believe it? Last night some arseholes attacked the gas station on the north of New Flagstaff with firebombs. I had a nice little discount going there too. It's amazing what a few indiscreet photo's will get ya. Anyway, no damage was done as the guards rushed in and extinguished the flames, but then one of those nine bloody great wind turbines comes crashing down, completly destroyed it was. When the plod got there they found these words were painted on the crashed turbine thingy:"


Joe holds his hand up as if framing each word...

Joe Spivey's picture

Desperatly Seeking....

When Joe finally peeled himself out of his home made yellow hazmat suit in Beau's that night he caused his own mini evacuation. Not through any fear of contamination by the nerve gas that some nutter had released in the square you understand. No, this was definately more to do with what happens when you encase Mrs Spivey's maloderous son in layers of plastic and rubber and leave him to bake for several hours in the hot sun.


Eventually, the customers drifted back. Their need of alcohol overcoming the desperate messages their noses were sending to their brains. Aside from the watering eyes of those in closest proximity to Joe, things got back to normal. After all there was so much beer to comsume and only so many hours in which to do it.


Later in the evening Joe remembered the piece of paper given to him by the figure in the full body, state of the art, hazmat suit some hours earlier. Downing the last of his pint he began to wander around the other patrons.

Joe Spivey's picture

Joe at Work

Seems one of the Union guards just got a tee wee too drunk talking to Joe and another drunkard. Joe had made sure the ale flowed freely, something he considers as a legitimate business expense in a situation like this.



"Ya it's cool..." the guard slurred. "Those vigilantes are back in town and we have less work now, they even shortened our patrol hours."


"More time for beer eh?" The other drunk chimed in.

Joe Spivey's picture

Joe does a Clouseau

Keywords:

The sun was just starting to poke its firey head over the horizon when Joe carefully poked his head out of the doorway of the Flagstaff Tap. The Tap was not one his usual haunts, they tended to serve far too much food and far too little beer for his liking. He was there this early early in the morning for another reason. He was there for guilty pleasures and he didn't want to be seen.


Annoyingly there was more than just the Union Patrol on the street this morning. Two heavily armoured enforcer types had just passed the door of the Tap. Big guys, dangerous guys... Joe almost dropped his cigar. Holding hands guys? This was priceless, definately a two pinter, maybe even a whisky if he could get a bit more on the two.

Joe Spivey's picture

Big Trouble in Little... (no that doesn't work). Shit Heading Fanwards in Hope Springs (there we go)

Keywords:

I just happened to overhear... not that i was listening of course, you know me... an odd little snippet in the old watering hole last night.


Joe Spivey's picture

Gossip, Rumours and News Reports

((Just a reminder to everyone and also to let new and retyrning players know.


The Joe Spivey character is one of theose shady types who lives on the fine line between the forces of law and order and organised crime. As such he always has his eyes and ears open for interesting pieces of information.


Joe Spivey's picture

News from Plateau... besides it being rather sandy.

Rating:

*Joe is in Beaus, swopping gossip for drinks as usual.*


I was having a chinwag with one of those Franklin Rider fellers this morning. Now I'm not saying they 'ave what you might call an 'un-natural' relationship with their horses, but there are motorbikes out there they could use... Just saying.


Anyway I was just enquiring about special rates for regular customers like me, the bastard said no by the way, and we got to talking about all the murders and wotnot that have been going on lately. Most of them I knew about but this one was new even to me.

Joe Spivey's picture

Bar-room Murmurings

Disturbing rumours have been doing the rounds, *sniff* well disturbing if your a Vista or a Tech I suppose. Anyway, seems like their scientists have been turning up missing. Not just from around here too. I was talking to this one bloke who was from... I dunno, some dump down south, and they've had the same thing happening.


Joe Spivey's picture

Explosion in Ravens Peak

Early morning travellers coming in from Raven's Peak are telling stories of an explosion of 'unknown nature 'in a three story building right in front of the Franklin Raiders office. No one seems to know if there have been any casualties.


Mind you, if you ask me, a few explosions in that town can't do anything but improve the place.

Joe Spivey's picture

Valkyrie

poster


 


The  poster has appeared both in New Flagstaff and Embry outside bars, LifeNet facilities and other popular gathering places.


Joe Spivey's picture

Main topic of conversation in the bar last night...

... was what's been going on the top floor of New Flagstaff hospital (second floor of garages) last night.


Judging by the stuff left behind after they'd gone, the place has been used to craft dozens of wicked wasteland and blood sports weapons. Lots of bits and pieces of scrap wood, bits of sharpened steel and rusty nails. They reckon that the weapons made were crossbows, razorbats, spiked clubs and other nasty little things of that ilk.


Joe Spivey's picture

New Flagstaff Leafleted

((Overnight the following has appeared all over New Flagstaff. Posted on walls, pushed through doors and piles of them left in popular gathering places.))


Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?


 

Joe Spivey's picture

Joe's funny story

((This is a story Joe tells anyone who stands still long enough near him))


'Ere, I thought my luck was in the other night!


There I was sat minding me own business, 'aving a quiet pint in Beau's and this bint walks over. Well, I say a bint but she was well classy. Union mind, coz she 'ad one of them badges on but I aint got no gripe with them lot.


Joe, thinks I, you luck's changing for the better old son. Anyway, I straightens meself up and she's just about to tell me how 'andsome I am when a pair of  Union gorrillas walk in all armoured up to the bleedin eyeballs. They fix on the skirt straight away and beeline straight over to us. Course, I could 'ave 'andled them no trouble but I din't want to scare the lady did I? So I stays put where I am.

Joe Spivey's picture

Overheard in a bar.

Was having my normal 5 pint lunch when I happened to hear this juicy little item.


Seems the naked and mutilated body of a hooker was found in a motel room across from Beaus. There were blood smears and bloody handprints on the wall at the scene. There were no witnesses, or at least no one would come forward and talk.


(Edited to change footprints to handprints)

Joe Spivey's picture

Whisper on the streets.

Here's an interesting little tidbit doing the rounds.


A clone, Lost Bride, stole something for Outsiders but she didn't give the stolen loot to Outsiders.


Now both Earthbound and Outsiders threaten to get to Sector 2 to look for the stolen item, some kind of device.


A bounty has been given on tracking down this clone and returning the device to either Earthbound or Outsiders.


Lost Bride is considered armed and dangerous: Shoot first ask questions later is advised.

Joe Spivey's picture

"Word on the street is..."

Joe Spivey's picture

Bleedin 'ell

Well now, this is a right turn up and no mistake.


Pops me clogs expecting to pick up where I leaves off and suddenly, wallop, decades 'ave gorn past and the whole bleddin world's gorn to 'ell. Took a bit of figurin aht but it looks like you're back to square numero uno, Joe me old mate. Just like when you started out when you was a nipper eh? Ok then, best get the lay of the land, see what's what and who's who. Then we'll see what needs doing.


The old army skill's with a rifle came in 'andy right from the get go. Didn't go much on all that diggin around in the dirt though. Definately not my style. Nor was all that bleedin pickin fruit before that bastard farmer would give me a decent horse. Soon sorted that though, pulled the old Huck Finn on some of the local kids while I put me feet up. I'll be long gorn before they try and spend those chips though, shame really, wouldn't 'alf mind seeing their faces!

Pages

Subscribe to RSS - Joe Spivey's blog


Main menu 2

by Dr. Radut