The Trade off

Word went and spread throughout the Deepnet about a deal. Jan got one response, and had prepared to follow up on it, or whomever those fucks were, there would be HELL to pay. Making sure to actually stock up on some armed ghouls and what have you as he stood in the center whilst the mindless zombies were on the rooftops wielding MP5's, clutching and pointing it downward as it would be sure that it would go without a hitch. Four high rise buildings, the locks closed and welded shut as ultimately, the ghouls were disposable, and that there wouldn't be elements of surprise from the authorities. As well as the fact Jan was given TWO Millennium soldiers, as in those Nazi fuckwads whom had their Kar98k sniper rifles, and the other one a spotter, be it as it may for the back as well as front. Likewise they needn't trod afar in regards to actually getting to their location, welding it shut, being the only way up from the door, and keeping an eye out as the silent outskirts of Mexico city only had the faintest whistles of the distance. Said locations for the ghouls being the four buildings so close and wide, abandoned and condemned high rise towers that gave away from a lack of quality and crumbling, as the four were North, South, East and West of Jan, each. Whereas the Millennium snipers meant to keep the meeting all good, were far far away, 0.5km away on a high rise building in itself as they didn't wear anything conspicuous, dressing up as the locals with some wife beaters, cap and khaki capris if not sandals as well, and making sure to make entry apart from Jan. It was quiet, and there was nary a breeze to lick Jan's face. Not that he needed it, had some tart Latina do that for his other "head". She probably was loaded with some STDs and other shit, but Jan ain't giving a shit. Vampirism SURE gave him immunity to that shit. Yep, a condom free wonder is Jan's best gift.

But alas, he is a slave to the transpiring nights, as he couldn't venture out in day without consequence of him sizzling like a pinata barbecue. Standing in the middle as he looked at the time, whilst the rest of the junctions to the vast 50 meter space with Jan in the middle, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he looked at the time with his golden eyes. Well shit, the fuck was Jan here for? This is Luke's kind of thing, talking and all that, BUT, with narcotics involved, Jan is WILLING to make an exception in these few times.

He looked up and watched, before pulling out a mirror and adjusting his hat. He didn't wear a track suit, he wore a set of wizard's robes and a wizard's hat as well as a fake long black beard so as to not look out of the place.

"FUCK is taking those pricks so long?" Jan said, lacking the brilliant illumination as lights were at most, dim and bleak. The flickering lamp posts were waning from a lack of energy, as a sense of decay presided over the entirety of the area. What used to be a high venue area now surrounded by ruins, cracks, and what would be the result of long criminal activity which whittled any elements of businesses aside from the dubious from conducting it in their elements. Those said ghouls? Retards whom thought that they could get a jump on Jan and take the briefcase he carried on him as their eyes were lit with greed, now serving Jan as impotent cupcakes wielding Kalashnikovs.

--------> Combi's Lab/Streets of Mexico

The SUV Lenka was in came screeching to a halt, followed by two standard black unarmored vans from the garage. Grabbing two of the excessively heavy dufflebags out of the several in the van, he walked to the only visible entrance to the building. Upon entering, he sighed, realizing he'd have to climb every freaking stair up the roof, where the message said that the meeting was to be held.

*Time Skip, Imagine the torturous pain that Lenka is dealing with as he climbs several flights of stairs with two very heavy dufflebags.*

Finally reaching the top floor, Lenka looked around for a door, and found a few, but noted they had been welded shut. Assuming this was due to the fact that the buildings were abandoned (Creating quite the cliche meeting place) Lenka walked around, finally finding an unwelded door. Making sure his Bren and Webley were well hidden under his uniform (The former being under his pack, and thus hidden from view.) He advanced towards the door. Unfortunately, as his hands were full, Lenka resorted to kicking the door's handle. For some unknown reason, the door, instead of opening, snapped off its hinges, flying forward several meters before sliding to a stop on the roof. Stepping out into the now very dim sunlight, he noticed a figure standing about ten meters infront of him, wearing... A Wizard robe? Complete with a hat? This was... Unexpected...

Okay, Scratch that, This was Straight-Up-Wtf. Anyway, Seeking to hopefully get this meeting over with, as he didn't want a whole crapload of police showing up. Not that he hated meetings, they were just inconvenient if police arrived. Finally speaking, his high-pitched voice rang out across the rooftop.

"Vell, I'm here. Shall ve get zis meeting ztarted?"

(OOC: lol, wrong place, Jan is in the courtyard, but no need to edit, we can work our way around this inconsistency with some colorful post from the one and only JAN MOTHERFUCKIN' VALENTINE. Also he is standing in the middle of 50 meter ground, which logically would put Jan at 25 meters if you are originating from any outbound points of said 50 meter horizontally wide and long.)

The sun was never dim because there WAS no sun, rather Jan was out in the MOONLIGHT as it were the favorite part of the werewolves -- a FULLMOON. He is truly fondled by the thought he was thinking in ALLCAPS, but regardless Jan's mental coherency and cognition afforded him not but to await his seller. Having a briefcase still held at hand as he looked at the watch on his wrist. Considering he was NOT in the building, but OUTSIDE, on a fat plain of ground overlooked by the four buildings with a clear view of the one four off to which the two Nazi soldat had nested in. In other words, he was in a WIDE SPACE that was overlooked by the four buildings surrounding him, the ways into it were quite clear, rather at the corners of each buildings. Hence the accessibility that is present by just either sifting THROUGH the buildings, or merely going through the corner openings, waltzing on the cracked concrete.

ALAS, for Jan waited, fixing his hat as he did NOT see any presence considering he was NOT on a building. Who puts a lamp post on a high rise building anyways? It's COMMON SENSE it'd be on the floor grounds. Perhaps a fit of madness from the one whose voice, high pitched and girly as it may be, has come to be afflicted so? To see what was not there, that being Jan, or perhaps another wizard hat wearing bloke around in these parts, on a rooftop. Wizards are quite common really, more so than others believe.

ANYWAYS, since he was NOT on the same location or visible range of Lenka, he only heard the harpy screech that one could call a voice beckoning for Jan's attention. He looked at the source of the location, only to sift his vision to the general direction of it all.

"OY YOU CUMDRIBBLING FUCKBUCKET, TALK TO ME FACE TO FACE, OR ARE YOU TOO MUCH A PUSSY TO GET DOWN TO BUSINESS!?" Jan yelled back in his typical American twang, "OUT IN THE COURTYARD, I AIN'T GOT ALL DAY LONG, GOT BITCHES TO HUMP, AND PLACES TO SEE."

(OOC: Oops, I misinterpreted your post, i thought he was on a roof.)

Noting that a rather... Colorful voice had screamed out from the courtyard, Lenka looked over the edge, realizing he had mixed up the meeting place...

And climbed a shitload of stairs for no reason.

"Gah! Fuck! I got ze place mixed up. Sorry! I vill be down in a moment."

Sprinting down the hallway back to the stairs, Lenka headed out to the front of the building, and instructed his three drivers to enter the courtyard through a corner opening. Noting the figure in the middle, Lenka hopped out of the truck just before it halted about fifteen meters from the... Wizard.

"Sorry about zat. I must have misread your directions. Forgive me, it has been a long week." Lenka apologized for the wait, also facepalming as he did so. "So, shall ve start zis meeting?"

(OOC: Awkward.)

(OOC: Nah, it's fine.)

Jan looked at the time and tapped his feet on the floor, waiting the clumsy and goofy man-girl to make his way down to meet the manly Jan, the fucking Wizard MC of the Tijuana MG. Or whatever the fuck this city is called, all Mexican cities sound the same to him anyways, and he wasn't exactly paying attention to the Mexican geography unless he HAS to.

Apparently three people entered behind the blond midget that looks like a hobbit, or maybe a gnome. He couldn't tell. The blondie looked like a gnome got raped by an Elf, which produced the unholy offspring that is Lenka. Nonetheless, Jan was here to do business, so his eyes don't get sore from staring at this infernal abomination.

That being the boy before him, with those three stooges right behind him, Jan stretched as he still occasionally glanced at the mirror to see if his get up is perfect. Giving a proportional attention to Goldy-locks, and noting the trucks next to the midget.

"Yeah yeah, you went to 'Nam, got fucked up the anus there, got laid, I get it. And I don't give a shit about your week. But enough foreplay and let's get down to business. FIRST, show me your goods, one by one, take them out so I can count them and see what other shit you got, THEN, I get to sample them. If they're in proper order, we can call this a night, you get paid and get offered a more lucrative deal, THEN you can go back to your deviant lifestyle." He cracked a toothy grin, a plume of smoke puffed out since he had a cancer stick in his mouth, his eyes leered with interest at the boy as he studied him with excessive interest, "So, get cracking on opening them, kiddo."

(OOC: W...W...w... *Jaw drop* T...Those descriptions...)

The man infront of him had a bigger mouth than anyone the merc'd ever seen. He had half a mind to cut him to pieces with his rather nice sword, but he skipped over back to one of the trucks, lackeys in tow, and started unloading the various weapons and ammunition, sorting them with the weapons in-front, and the ammunition in back, each in its own pile. Standing back to admire his work, Lenka pulled out a catnip joint, lit it, stuck it in his mouth, and crossed his arms, His lackeys were behind him on their knees, winded. The officer, however, was none the worse for wear. (Mainly because he didn't have to lug 200-ish pounds of muscle around with himself as he moved.)

 "There. Sorting ist done." Turning to the client, who was still in a ridiculous  outfit, he gave the strange man a lazy shrug. "Vere shall ve start?"

Golden eyes scanned the innards laid before him of the box, guns all of them far and wide as he gave a quick head count of all of them. Sans the heads and more the skeletal body frame per armament spread far and wide, stacked and spread. Or something. It was quite vague really, the hobbit stood around, did NOTHING, no shit at all and let his men do all the work. What a bitch. Anyways, Jan noted all are in APPROPRIATE order, as Jan is a bona fida motherfuckin' count master, making a quick approximation and rounding and whatever the Hell it is they do in alviagra, or was it algebra? Meh. Anyways, he noted those as he gestured for them back into their containers from whence they spawned from.

"Yeah yeah, stop feeling so conceited about it. You ain't done shit yourself." Jan waved away, putting the briefcase down as he pops it open, placing it on the ground before his feet inches away to reveal it filled with stacks of dollars. All wrapped of course to prevent them from flying away. They were pretty fat wads too. "I want ALL of these loaded up in lil' handy dandy van right over..." Jan snapped his fingers, a black van without windows at the back was produced from a corner behind Jan. Hitching up speed and breaking to his left, spinning around as the back popped open. "THERE." Two masked men who reeked of corpse decay stepped out of the back, wearing goggles as none of their skin or even their features were revealed. Slowly but surely going next to Jan, shuffling towards the ammunition. One of them let out a moan.

"As for YOU, half-pint. I gots you ANOTHER proposition, blah de blah or so Luke would say. I am ALSO in the market for some knob knockers, well shit, just gimme all the muscles you have and supply us, AND we'll pay you. Throw in some free drugs as well for... tactical reasons, yep. If not, then boo hoo for you, your fuckin' loss." Jan waved his hand in a gesture of an explanation without enthusiasm, obviously bored.

(Call From The Lab, Lenka Answers)

As he was making sure the men weren't sneaking any product from the Cache, Combi saw that a good portion of his weapons and supply had been sent off for a trade. He ran back into his room, connected his phone to his laptop and called Lenka..

"Lenka, put me through to the fuck we're dealing with." He scratched at his scalp with his pistol.
"I don't trust your barter skills, how do you know this putrid cunt isn't ripping us off?" Combi waited for the phone to be passed to the unknown customer.

Lenka's face fell slightly at the fact Combi was dissing his skillz', but whatever. 

"Right... Right. Ai. Ze Spitzenreiter is on ze phone."  Lenka strode over to the Wizard guy, holding out the phone so he could speak to Combi. Inwardly, he was quite dissapointed, but hey. Beggars can't be choosers, even if those Beggars are actually officers and armed with a machine gun, pistol, and grenades...

"The Spittingwanker, huh? SPEAK in English you illiterate French cumbucket, not Surrendernese" His natural deduction skills that are completely natural deduced indeed the phone is meant for him. And given how wimpy Lenka appeared, which seemed to be the norm as Jan inferred, but rather wimpier than usual, that Jan should be dealing with the head honcho. Because there is a clear totem pole of pecking order, wimpy people are bitches, and demanding people are pimps. Pimps own bitches, thus, Lenka is a bitch, but then who the fuck is this dumbass on the phone? A question he'll answer soon enough.

He snatches the phone from Lenka's hand as he puts it against his ear, "I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING BUSINESS HERE, YOU STUPID ASSMUNCHING FUCK. WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT? IT HAD BETTER NOT BE ANOTHER RETARD TELEMARKETER OR ANY OF YOU DUMBASS JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES." Or not. Nope, no idea at all after all. Ah well, there goes the pimp analogy. Haha... anal-ogy.

Combi faked a indian accent
"Hi there, would you like to accept our cellular package of SHUTYOURFUCKINGCUMBREATHMOUTH, if you're interested in our premium package of A SPINY PINEAPPLE SHOVED DOWN YOUR FUCKING DICK HOLE you can go fuck yourself and for a small handling fee, i'll throw in MY LSD/DOPE COVERED DICK GOING DOWN INTO THAT GAPING HOLE WHERE YOUR 1 INCH PRICK USE TO BE, AND I'LL FUCK IT TILL THE COWS COME HOME!"

Combi caught his breath and snorted a line off of his desk to fuel his rage, he then dropped the indian accent.

"Now, what the fuck kind of deal is this? Who the fuck are you, and who the fuck is this pansy ass org that needs to be supplied by a buncha Mexicans with guns?" Combi became so angry, he received a massive erection. He proceeded to do three more lines to kill his embarrassing erection. His snorts could be heard over the phone.

Lenka pretty much exploded from the inside at said comment of Frenchies.

"DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING FRENCHIE TO YOU? Pardon me If mein English is broken, Not everyone grew up with the language, you know." He then mumbled to himself, nearly inaudibly "Spoiled Americans, Spoiled Americans everywhere." Throwing his arms up as he was most likely being ignored, he pulled out another of his special blunts and lit up, taking a hit. "I'm German... Fuck the police."

Jan listened to some Indian motherfucker over the phone about a cellular package as he heard from the side the Frenchie flapping his mouth and making squeal noises that perhaps one can consider language. In his infinite generosity he pulled the phone away from his ear, Jan made it clear what on his mind it was to transmit to the Frenchie. "Yeah yeah yeah, that's cute. Now SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET THE ADULTS DO THE TALKING. Important business, no time for your bitch ass yet."

He then puts the phone back to his ear after having missed a good portion of the talking, some little shit interrupted him anyways, hearing something about cows and that's pretty much it. Fucking Indians and their sacred cows. A bulge soon erected over the feminine tone over the phone.

"Oh you dirty bitch, I love it when you talk dirty to me. Also didn't catch what you said, too much bullshit cluttering up the line, whatever you do with cows on your own time is YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS. GET THE MEMO." Jan chortled in his lackadaisical attitude, "Now I'll spell it out for your mentally retarded ass REALLY SLOWLY so you can understand, in SIMPLE FUCKING EBONICS. This shit right here is me, the CUSTOMER, being the one who got to fuck your mother with a vagina as gaping as a wizard's sleeve, you cow fucker, want to buy GOONS, that's PEOPLE WITH GUNS in case you don't get GET IT ALREADY, YOU STUPID FAT FUCK, and FIREARMS. That's what you SHOOT WITH, and no, not your minuscule microscopic thing you call a penis." Jan said, sighing something about how hard he is over the side, "So COME OVER HERE THIS MOMENT, AND TALK FACE TO FACE WITH ME INSTEAD OF OVER THE PHONE. Considering this FRENCH SURRENDER MONKEY right here can't handle any deals for SHIT. Show up like a good lil' boy, and I'll MAYBE give you a treat, just MAYBE. Bring drugs too, AND BE HERE ON TIME, or else I will find you, and FUCKING MURDER YOU, YOU DIRTY SPIC MEXICAN RAT. NO BORDERS YOU CROSS WILL BE SAFE FROM ME, NO MOMMA'S OR DADDY'S GOING TO SHIELD YOU, OR ANY AGENCY IN THE WORLD. JUST YOU AND ME, AND YOUR ASS ON THE LINE ON A LEASH, WITH MY FIFTY INCH THROBBING COCK PENETRATING IT TILL YOU SHIT OUT BLOOD AND COUGH OUT CUM, YOU DIRTY FAGGOT. Before any response can be heard from the phone, Jan merely tightened his squeeze on it, breaking it into many pieces and rendering it inoperable.

He flung the shattered pieces of the phone over to Lenka, "I am not paying for that." Like a magic wand, a clear long pole formed from Jan's robe, that one can almost mistake for a meter uh... barrel of a gun. Right. Clearly throbbing as it is evident Jan is going commando. He looks down and shrugs, having bloodshot eyes filled with horny rage of a majestic chocolate lion. Looking back up at Lenka whom he isn't sure is a girl or a boy. Ah well, eventually one way to find out. Probably. Maybe. Perhaps? Or was it violence that got him stirred up? MAN he needs to find some sleazy tart around here, in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, Mexico.

Combi noticed the call ended before he could respond "Now that's a fucking customer!" he said giddily as he pelvic thrusted out of the chair he was sitting on. He grabbed his walkytalky and adjusted the channel to his Elite Cultist members "Three cars, fifteen men (10 Elite Cultist, 5 Elite Regulars), load up some coke, dope and make sure your safety is off".

Combi lead the convoy in his armored BMW to the location that he tracked Lenka's phone to. Three Escalades behind him with his top men, armed with AK47's , grenades and a quarter million in product.
As he was pulling up to the exact location's entrance, he was wondering how fucking obvious of an ambush the site was, it seemed as if they weren't even fucking trying to hide it. Combi radioed his men "We need eyes on the building's top floors". Combi was surprised the meeting was hosted in Mexico city, essentially his territory. Back up was just a couple minutes away. Half of his force could easily surround the area in minutes. Combi arrived at the destination with his convy's powerful headlights illuminating the site. The cars were lined up in a spear formation, illuminating the dark areas while also impairing the vision of those staring into Combi's direction. Combi exited his vehicle and sat on the hood of his car, with his skull mask on, and his Golden AK47 in his arms. "Brought some party favors" he yelled into the quiet night. At the snap of his fingers, his regular Elites unloaded the vehicle of its product, but not giving it to the customer until Combi requests it. The Cultist Elites used the armored vehicle doors for cover as their AK47s pointed out from the rolled down windows. The illumination from the vehicles shined bright into the lower levels and slightly skimming the top of the higher levels, if there was any armor, helmets, guns, or equipment on the lower levels, it would have slight revealing reflections.

Now that the stuff was prepared for the trade, Combi added a little request "I don't know what fucking kind of moron you think i am, but you're going to meet me in the middle of the first floor of the building i'm facing so we can get this shady business deal done with." Combi advanced into the First floor with his regulars carrying the product, and four cultists protecting Combi, while the other six were aiming into the building from their vehicle's cover.

Lenka noted the headlights that stopped just around the corner, and heard Combi's declaration of the meeting being moved inside the building to his left. Sighing, he strolled over to the building, kicking the now-unwelded door off its rusted hinges and into the building. "You'd think that ze leader thinks I'm totally incompetent. Oh vell." Remembering that Combi always had guys protecting him with guns, he called out into the building. "Ai! Sub-Lieutenant entering ze building! Don't shoot me or I'll blow your ass up with a grenade!" Grinning, he continued walking through the first floor, eventually ending up walking beside Combi.

What fat bulge of pole-like proportion was what Jan would call a magic trick wavered as he grew bored. Man was this fucked up. He heard the traction of cars off into the distance which beckoned for his attention. Blah de blah blah, somethings about some shit that he didn't care about. The leader like a good little puppy came to meet Jan, but apparently is too much a BIG PUSSY to actually see him face to face. 'Least Frenchie here has a bigger pair of testicles... or probably ovaries. He could never tell with the half-manmidget.

Anyways, he followed the pipsqueak who seems to have a raging erection for the puppy inside as he followed. Both hands in his pockets as he walked with his typical forward hunch. Holding the thick metallic briefcase at hand with the goods as he strutted right behind Lenka.


-- Intermission --

Jan just walked over the wall to the first floor. Standing opposite of Combi and his elites as his golden eyes scanned them, he was to their left flank. They were a good distance away about perhaps 5 meters as of that point, Jan already drifted away from Lenka when he opted to take the stairs. Meh. But anyways, Jan looked at them as he was standing perilously close to the edge. To a human anyways. Ignoring Lenka as he seems to be threatening his employer's men in an obvious fit of homicidal horny lustful rage. Hormones these days and them kids...

"Oy Raul, cut the bullshit and let's go straight for the fuck, no foreplay. This is a full bona fida buy out. You and your WHOLE outfit are under the Jan motherfuckin' Valentine foundation and co., contract, PENDING. You take over Mexico with OUR help, and we pay you for it. S'long as you distribute what we tell you to, AND you actually keep your criminal empire together." His gold eyes look over to the cultists dispassionately and then back to Combi whom he referred to as Raul, "Suppose we can throw in a bonus for free for those dimwits o' yours, give'em a little oomph even fucking better than PCP rage outs. Name a price which involves AMERICAN YANKEE DOLLARS for the contract, and also hand over them guns once we get this shit over with, and some of them good hashish."

(OOC: US 1st floor = UK Ground Floor, no stair climbing)

Combi stuck out his left hand in a fist, signaling his regulars not to fire upon the pretty little shota that casually walked into the line of fire. His fingers were anxiously tapping the frame of his golden AK47 as he waited for the customer to show up with his own armed squad. To Combi's surprise, the man was alone, it seemed.
    The vehicle's bright lights blared into the face of this ugly brown motherfucker "But god are you ugly, but don't worry, those piercings make you look pretty" He joked as he popped his neck after he snorted a quick key. "Alrighty, we can cut the shit show, give him the product" He said in his Scandinavian accent, The Elite Regulars layed out an extra quarter million dollars worth of product, equipment and weaponry than what Lenka had previously brought. "I suppose you have better training than we do, you must have, since i have no idea where your men are currently stationed" He spit on the floor as the coke from his nose seeped into his throat, his eyes still scanning the area, drug use has made Combi extremely paranoid, which has saved his life many times. The shipment was now in view of the receiver, Combi waited to get paid before he allowed the man to get his dirty little fingers on Combi's hard work. Moving this amount of product this quickly was going to make Combi's plans even bigger, more man power, better weapons, and more locations. All he needed to do was hire more Mercenaries like his officer, Lenka.

   Combi snapped his powdery fingers, his regulars quickly retreated back to the cover of the vehicles, replacing the Elite cultists who carefully walked into the building with their guns trained to protect Combi, keeping a tactical distance from each other. (5 Regulars aiming into the building behind their vehicles, 10 Cultists now with Combi) Combi , now starring directly into Jan's eyes, spoke through his mask "My Cartel is a sole proprietorship fuck face, you're an investor, not a fucking CFO. You give me money, i give you results. I don't know what they taught you before you flunked third grade, but when you buy whole sale, it doesn't fucking mean you bought the entire fucking company." Combi popped his neck again with another short key snort as an intermission "I'll accept this CONTRACT" he emphasized as if explaining to a child "I get what i want, you get what you want." He pointed at the weapons, crystal meth, cocaine, ammunition, gear and the rest of the goodies. Finally, he clapped his powdery hands together, letting his AK47 sling to his side "Now, you were talking about training my men?"

Lenka walked over to a column nearby Combi, and leaned against it, his hands in his pockets, with a C-Blunt (Wonderful things...) lit in his mouth. Obviously the pinnacle of badassery, complete with an amazing uniform, a helmet, and a bandaged-over eye. Who could possibly compare?

(OOC: Short post is short, I'm a great liar, Aren't I?)

(OOC: SUPER LAZY POST MODE ACTIVATE!)

And so Jan said a disparaging statement about Combi, and then an anus, and how his face resembles a dildo grated on a ghoul's face. It started getting repetitive as he starts insisting on such things, mixed with incessant vulgarity. A bout of camaraderie bellowed forth for what laugh spat out from Jan's mouth, saying a bunch of things to do with Combi knowing how to get shit done, but he is still ugly as fuck, and Jan is handsome, and obviously Combi has no idea what he is talking about, etc. etc.

-- Real dialogue now --

And so Jan picked his ears as he got lectured by the blabbermouth. GEEZ, even his bitches back at his loft don't give lip to him like that. Luke on the other hand, did that without swearing, but whomever this chucklefuck is, he must have a pair of ovaries instead of testicles.

"Okay then, I'll make this as SIMPLE as possible. I want YOU to conquer MEXICO'S underground. I am investing in your bland ass shabby little gang, upgrading it from a shithole filled with junkies and spic niggers, into a professional outfit. Comprande?" He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket, licking the dollar greens before flinging it at Combi's face, "And yes, train your men and shit. Give them enhancements that turns them into ubermensch, a LITTLE procedure I'd like to call vampirism. I don't give a fuck if you believe in it or not, but you should let the later results speak for themselves. This is OUR investment in your retard group which I personally wouldn't care about, as I can kick your ass anyways, you and me, without our goons, BUT, since I am in a good mood today, and you know how to flick my switches with your charming ass persuasion, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." He paused, and then continued, having to explain further... GOD, he hated having to explain things as if it were to three year olds, usually he'd just shoot them in the face, or something, maybe hump them, "This is just a taste of what's to come, the best drug in the world, and that's greed, or ecstasy... well shiit, maybe that Mexican nipple cunt twister drug, or whatever the fuck you pronounce it as in your spic backwater assfuck nowhereville."

He slid over the briefcase, it was only a quarter amount of the original cash.

"UNTIL you deliver a QUARTER of your shipment over to the location I sent ya, we'll just keep our greens."

Then he looked at Lenka, who seems to be smoking catnip, "Also I'll throw in a space saucer as a bonus if you give me that little blond bitch smoking the blunt."

"Ah, so you know how to create artificial demons?" Combi asked intrigued while one of his Cultist Elites picked up the cash that was so carelessly thrown onto the ground. He ignored the faggosaurus's question pertaining to his apparent hardOn for the Child-like Lieutenant, Lenka. "Sounds like a plan, i'll be sending my Elite Cultists to guard the shipment to your location. When they come back with the money, they better be the fierce demons you promised, hopefully not as ugly as you, of course." Combi now realized the man before him was probably a strong demon himself. Who else would stay this off-edge in front of 17 heavily armed assailants. It was possible he WAS alone. Combi's fear did not show through his facial expressions since it was well hidden through his mask. "Looking forward to doing business" With that, Combi left with a great amount of money, using his phone to contact his distributors to construct a heavy trade route to the designated location (Yucatán).


Exit ------------> Combi's Lab

Lenka, decidedly NOT looking forward to doing business with the client, due to his inability to distinguish Frenchies from Germans, turned around and followed Combi out the door, slightly unnerved by the strange man's comment about him.

--------------> Dat Lab

And so with the lack of presence from the cumbucket and the French horse fucker, Jan departed his way forth. Withdrawal from the area as he pulled out a button. Pressing it a couple of times as the ghouls were vaporized in a flame of blue. Yep, best leave no evidences behind besides ashes. Anyways, he just walked away in the opposite direction, with both hands in his pockets. The wind flowed at him as his robes waved wildly, his golden eyes shined at the moonlight as the lights align to leave luminscent brilliance that shone from Jan Valentine, motherfuckin' saint MG of the gun OC. Also Combi is the real faggosaurus here, considering he keeps the shota around as a Lieutenant. Probably for intimate gay reasons, to lay gay eggs, because that's how gay people multiply. That is if Jan knew what that fag thought about him. Because he is a fag, and that's how faggots act. Yep, Jan was so enlightened in the ways of the world.

-----> EXIT