I spoke too soon. The damn Monk is following me around again. What freaks me out most about the Tin Men is how they're always smiling, with those plastic faces, and their voices are always calm and mellow, perfectly balanced. It freaks you out.
I was working this nice pick, fat rich moron slumming it on the streets instead of in an expensive hover like he's supposed to be--dressed in this ridiculous costume to 'blend in'. This is a new thing for those morons, rich people. To slum. They dress up and walk the streets and go home to tell stories of their brave safari among the scum in the streets. Never far away from security, of course--panic buttons in their pockets, instant woe from above if they even get shoved too hard, and lord knows the SSF, if they even bother to investigate a scuffle, will throw shit like me to the wolves in an instant no matter who started it or what actually happened.
So a pick is the only real option with the Swells. Nice and neat, they don't even know it happened and no one gets hit by the Crushers. So I was taking my time with the fat bastard, creeping along, waiting, and then I notice, I'm being followed too. The Monk's not even trying to hide, it's just shadowing me, grinning. I guess it thinks I'm the sort of low creature that would be glad for some salvation, and figures it will wear me down. But it scares me. In my life, my line of work, you get followed it usually means someone's gonna kill you.
Gotta go. These illegal connections are getting too hot to keep open long, and the last thing I need is Crushers on my case.