Any other person who had ever gone through puberty knew the reason of course. What was the point of looking like a super model or actor if you could not appreciate the debauchery that went with it?
To dump a teenage boy in a body some people would kill for and not leave them with a way to let out their frustrations was a cruel crime.
“I want one of those bodies. Give me a tan, hair, muscles, and at the least five dicks.” He also wanted access to alien slut magazines and when it was possible a strip bar, hopefully with a girl or two with a body that didn’t look like it came out of Doctor Who.
An shine came over the monster’s eyes that some cartoonist would use as a background to put great big dollar signs on.
“Are you sure Mister Kenning? Those types of bodies are rather expensive, and I’m afraid you still owe the company for your current one.” The monster said.
“You suck.” Maverick retorted.
The monster took back the contract in both clawed hands, “If you want, we can terminate the contract and you can go right back to your old vessel.” he made a gesture to rip the contract in half.
Maverick stretched out his hand, “No wait.” he than slammed his fist onto the floor.
The first rule of business was to always negotiate under a position of power and right now the monster held not just all the cards, he had the casino in his pocket.
If Maverick refused to abide to the contract than he was going to die. There was no maybe about it, he had felt the cold and the pain, and there was little chance survival was possible.
There was also the problem with his body and his non-existent sex life. If he came across some space goddess with loose morals he wanted to do more than hold hands.
“What’s the job and how much dose it pay?” Maverick asked.
The monster seemed happy with this win and so put the contract back into his jacket pocket without it making so much as a bulge. “I’m glad you have decided to stay with us Mister Kenning.”
There wasn’t much choice in it, is there you octopussy. As if he were drunk Maverick stood and making sure not to stare into the monster’s eyes decided it was best to play along. “So what are you anyway?”
Maverick’s new boss was taken aback, to believe that not even a creature from such a hick planet would recognise him.
Well it was understandable, seldom few creatures from the physical plane had experience when it came to those higher than themselves.
“Excuse my manners. I am Sydney, of Sydney’s Emporium.” The monster named Sydney opened his arms wide. “And this is my world.”
All Maverick could tell it was just a basement full of a few crates. Ranked hundred and one huh? This guy was obviously working independently and in the ‘getting on his feet’ stage in the business world.
You had to respect the home business. As an Australian Maverick respected the independent underdogs and the nerds working out of their sheds.
“And my job will be…” Maverick trailed off.
“For now, the requisition of stolen objects. Collect these objects for me and the body you are wearing is yours. If you do well I have openings in sales and delivery?”
Driving around in a kick ass space ship didn’t sound too bad. “Don’t you have police out in space?” A smile found its way across Maverick’s Grey skinned face. “Or is this strictly off the books job?”
“Great-Grandpa Cthulhu no. I run an honest business.” Sydney proclaimed.
That didn’t mean much when everything from anything had a price tag, including god sex slaves and narcotics for suns.
It was safe to say if and when Sydney decided to one day do something his people believed was illegal, you didn’t want to be in the same reality when he did so.
Sydney collected himself rather insulted that this boy would think him nothing more than a common criminal. “As for the reason that I do not collect these objects myself, which would take only a fraction of a thought to do, I need somebody on the ground as you humans put it.”
I already hate this job. Maverick pretended to smile. “Then I’m your man.”
Retrieving stolen goods involves a number of key things depending on how you wish to go about it, all of which include knowledge about the items, information on who took said items, and a large blunt instrument.
For some strange reason this creature that could rip people’s conciousness from their bodies and put them in Ken dolls chose to enlist Maverick in his schemes to retrieve something that had been taken from him.
This smelt like bullshit.
If this creature had bothered to do its research it would have known that Maverick was a dealer, maybe at best a fence.
The high schooler did not play repo-man, he ordered associates that liked porn to play the part of enforcers and collectors.
It was best to assume that this thing, this Sydney had some ulterior goal in mind and Maverick was intended to be screwed in any situation.
Either these objects were of a personal matter of they were illegal… or they were possibly dangerous like a bomb. It didn’t mater, refusal was a death sentence.
Maverick’s surprise was clear as the door that lead outside of the basement opened up into perhaps the most uninteresting environment he could imagine, it was a waiting room.
It was not one of those hospital waiting rooms either, where you could see an idiot with an axe to the head, it was a dull and lifeless space that stank of government bureaucracy.