God Machine Chronicle – Brians Log: Stardate something or other

IC blog of first God Machine Chronicle Session
Written by Simon Webber
Reproduced with permission from the author.
I can honestly say the last few hours have been the most spectacularly crazy-assed hours I’ve had since that stag do in Prague. I’ve only been back in the country for 48 hours, stocked up me home and thanks to this snow, and I mean snow in a biblical context, I couldn’t get my rig back to the yard. So I figured it would be best to empty it of all my kit which I did and I was heading back to the the tower when I saw Joe. He was carrying a chinese.
Now Joe’s a nice kinda of guy, but his idea of a chinese takeaway was not mine. He was literally carrying the man over his shoulder. Beaten he was, proper beaten, within a inch of his life, so he was. Well. I had to share with Joe that the man was in no fit state. Joes a nice lad, but he’s none too bright when it comes to TLC. 
So we like , take this Mr Lueng back to his takeaway after I use my keen skills to determine that he was indeed beaten badly , by metal poles and the like. We took him back home, to his mother in law, and his daughters. Well, We’d hardly been there five minutes and no sign of a black bean chicken, when 6 hoodie youths turned up intent on giving all and sundry of a chinese persuasion a good kicking for nicking all the cats in the area.
Well, I wasn’t having any of that. You see I’d run up to that pretty Kathy’s place, the nurse, and had brought her down to look see at Mr L. Well, I felt kinda responsible that she was there. So I told the little wankers to fuck off off in no uncertain terms, backed up as I was, with a solid representation of future consequences as provided by Smokey joe. In this case, a broken jaw.
Well, that was another mess to clear up, poor Rob, but if you will cheek your Elders, they are going roll up their sleeves and dispense a can of kick ass all over your face. 
You see for some reason or other, this wayward lads thought that Mr L was stealing all the cats and making dishes out of them.We told them there kids that this wasn’t the kind of pussy lads their age should be getting all worked up about. They agreed and ran off. We saw them off and I went back to check the freezer while Joe talked to some old Pole. Mr Yak something or other, I’m bloody terrible with names with few vowels. God I miss Carol Vorderman.
Anyway’s I only opened the bloody freezer to find a satchel with a blooming frozen cat in.
Well. needless to say my first reaction was I won’t be rushing back to buy a chicken and black bean in a hurry, i don’t care if it comes with free crackers.
But even after this reaction I couldn’t help but feel something wasn’t right about this. It kinda reminded me of that episode of Next Gen, when Picard and the crew are duped into working against a governments enemies only to learn the whole thing was as stitch up and the Crew make right on from what they did wrong.
Anyhow, that said. we took that Rob home, little scamp, and settled him down with some of that there weed. Sorted him a pot noodle and we buggered off back to Kathy’s.
So I showed them all this frozen cat in a bag, which didn’t so much as agree with kathy, bless her. She did her rendition of the Exorcist and damn near could have ruined me boots. I was sorry like, as I didn’t think she’d react like that. But anyways, things went even crazier from there, and not in a nice Dr Seuss kinda way.
That there Cat came back to life and scampered off, and there was some fashion challenged mental case who spooked Kathy. I spotted him in the corridor with a bag dead similar to the one we found in the freezer and he matched the description Mr L gave when we asked him about the bag in the same bloody freezer.
So I ask the guy what his bloody game is and he girly slaps me and runs off.
Well you don’t get away with that sort of unsociable behaviour with Brian Best. They don’t call me the bulldog for nothing, you know.
As it happens I hunted him down like Boba Fett horny for a bounty. Joe caught up with me at the mans flat see. Joe knows I am a man of action and we have this mutual respect thing going on. I don’t mind him watching me back, He’s a dependable sort of fellow if a bit blunt, but I keep him out of trouble.
So we barge are way into this Mr Creepy Mc Fatfucks flat, and by god it looked like the set of Buffalo fucking Bills..
So then there was this keen interrogation, I plied him with some reverse Klingon techniques and he spilled his story like a toddler without a lid on his juice cup.
Fucked up doesn’t even cut it. Undying cats. It’s the honest to goodness story. No doubt there’ll be some ancient Egyptian relic in the basement too, or a stephen king burial ground underneath the flats. I going back to see what proof this lanky puff has and Joe, well, he knows I’m a man of action and he’s coming for the ride too. I like Joe, I look after him.
Anyway, best keep my strength up and get an ice pack for my face. I can’t decide between the culinary delight of a Findus Crispy pancake or that Iceland beef and peppercorn sauce. Either way, I’m chilling out with me strongbow and revisiting me Original Series. Beam me up Mr Scott, it’s all goin Cat shit crazy down here…

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