Speakeasy

Bray strolls past the lounges and workshops and descends into the basement of the Team Evil Mansion. After navigating through the shelves and shelves of scavanged EChips, dodging around the humming generator, and avoiding the deranged white-coated scientists working in the lab, he arrives at the small door hidden in the back.

Bray knocks. A small panel slides open, and a pair of steel eyes glares at him. A voice growls through the door.

"What's the password?" it asks.

"I don't know the password. I'm one of Omicron Cypher's friends," Bray replies.

"Omicron Cypher? I don't know anybody called Omicron Cypher," says the voice.

"That's funny. Omicron Cypher is the one who wanted Filipino strippers in the first place," says Bray.

"Alright. Maybe I do know Omicron Cypher. But you're still not getting inside without the password. Go back to your regular gin joint if you want to dance a Charleston. Go shake down a bank if you're looking for some graft."

The panel slams shut. With a sigh, Bray takes a deep breath and howls. The shockwave blows the door off of its frame and crushes the unfortunate bouncer underneath.

"Easy enough to enter, as long as you speak the right language," Bray mutters as he strolls into the club.



Tags: base_