To: Kurt of the Rogues, in whatever hole he's hiding in.

[Petitioner]

---

Transmission from: Siena Rae

Location: Alice's Restaurant

Priority: Business-class.

---

Hey, you old bastard. We're gettin' back in the game. The Restaurant's in the Sierra field - I know you can find it. I don't care much if this is the fourth or fifth time you're coming out of retirement - there's money to be had, and I'm sure you miss the old days anyway. I can fill you in on the details this time around in person. The wine cabinet's still plenty full.
Don't ask me to take no for an answer, here.

~SR

[Grumblesaur]

---

Transmission from: Kurt C.

Location: An Actual Hole

Priority: Third In Line At Sunbucks Without A Police ID

---

You know, I'm not much appreciative of bein' sassed out of retirement by the same skirt whosowith gallivantin' around Liberty managed to age me five years I ain't had the chance to live yet. And I don't know where the hell you managed to pick up this NeuralNet address. I'm literally sitting at the bottom of a hole in a place better left unmentioned, if you're smelling what I'm stepping in. You don't want to know, I don't want you to know, and I sure as hell don't want "The Law" to know.

I will, however, freely admit that my booze-'n'-cruise stash of goodies is startin' to run low and wine isn't cuttin' my jib anymore, you get me? I need the raw, hard, gutbusting stuff. I'm willing to scrape my hairy bum out of this chair if the money's as good as your bubbly excitement is saying it is. You're not hopped up on whatsit, are you?

Yeah, whatever. It's a 'yes' from me. Put me on your payroll and tell me where the hell we're setting up our base of operations. Alcatraz has been dry for years, and I don't mean just the drink selection.