yeah ! fuck you Bob Franklin from Brussels calling collect to the CIA . <| sep |> Montaigne lay back on his couch , hands clasped behind his head , feet crossed and resting on the other arm of the couch . He kept his eyes open , staring at the ceiling , recalling the first thrashermetal concert he went to . While not a huge fan of that type of music , every selfrespecting ork and troll had to attend at least one of thrashermetal concert to earn respect amongst their peers . Montaigne twiddled his feet , as he remembered the headsplitting cacophony being heralded as music , the press of sweaty bodies jumping and gyrating to the music , and himself joining in with it all . In the moment , he had forgotten he didn ' t like the music , didn ' t like large crowds , and didn ' t like to express emotion . He ' d just gone along with it all , and even enjoyed himself . Interrupting his reverie , the commlink sitting on the coffee table rang , and without looking at the caller ID , Montaigne picked it up and answered it , asking , Yes ? Hey , kid ! It ' s me ! Your favorite fixer ! I ' ve got a job for you . Some DJ wants to host a party , and needs a space cleared for it . You interested ? replied his fixer , Phillip . Yeah . I haven ' t been to a party in ages . Sign me up . 0 BQXjLmstUEGZVM 5 RDZYLXN 1 bUE Punchertroll AdeptAlso have 0 BQXjLmstUEGbFlMdkN 4 cDRkY 1 U Infiltratorsniper adept and 0 B QXjLmstUEGRGRuZEZWNUxaajA ShamanOffface