with thanks to Rayzor for the ideas
Written by Hound
An Orbital Air corp was stepping out of his Ford-Mazda Luxus 14, when suddenly a Honda MetroCar came along and hit the door, tearing it right off the hinges. When Arasaka CorpSec arrived at the scene, the corp was hopping up and down with rage, complaining bitterly about the damage to his precious Luxus 14.
"Officer, look what they've done to my Luxus!!!" he shrieked.
"You OA Execs are so materialistic, you make me sick!!!" retorted the officer, "You're so worried about your stupid FML, that you didn't even notice that your left arm was ripped off!!!"
"Oh no...." replied the corp, looking down and noticing for the first time the bloody stump where his left arm had once been. "Where's my Treasurer Datawatch?!"
Due to a clerical error, when Jack Entropy died at the end of the Eurotour (sorry for ruining the module for y'all), he wound up in front of the Pearly Gates. No more in shock than him was St Peter who found his name quite firmly written in the book.
So after a few double and triple-checks, Jack Entropy was welcomed into heaven and given the guided tour.
"So over here is the hall of orgies... on your left down that path is the pharmacy where you can get any pharmacological concoction you may have enjoyed in life, and several other ones... alcohol store... all-nite strip-club..."
"And over here is the Great Hall"
As Jack and St Peter entered the Great Hall, Jack was blinded by the glow originating from the far end of the pristine white hall. After whipping on his Cryo-Max SP10 Triple-Tinted Mirrorshades he looked again and peered into the center of the brilliant glow until he was able to discern it's source.
He leaned over and whispered in St Peter's ear:
"I didn't know Johnny SilverHand was dead!"
"Shhhh" responded St Peter, "he's not dead. That's not Johnny SilverHand, that's GOD... he just thinks he's Johnny Silverhand..."
New warning labels are being considered for use on cans of Smash obtained through the vending machines in most states. Labels currently being considered include:
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may make you think you are whispering when you are not.
- WARNING: Consumption of smash is a major factor in dancing like a member of the Red Chrome Legion.
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may cause you to tell the same boring story over and over again until your friends want to test their new Minami 10 on you.
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may cause you to "thay shings like thish".
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may leave you wondering what the hell happened to your body armor.
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may cause you to roll over in the morning and see something really scary (whose species and or name you can't remember).
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may create the illusion that you are tougher, handsomer and smarter than some muscle-grafted cyber-enhanced meatball named Bubba
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may lead you to believe you are invisible.
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may lead you to think people are laughing with you.
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may cause an influx in the time-space continuum, whereby small (and sometimes large) gaps of time may seem to literally disappear.
- WARNING: Consumption of smash may lead you to believe you have SP:20 Skinweave.
A Biotechnica corp and a female nomad are sitting next to each other on a long flight from Night City to Chiba. The corp leans over to her and asks if she would like to play a fun game. The nomad just wants to take a nap, so she politely declines and rolls over to the window to catch a few winks.
The corp persists and explains that the game is really easy and a lot of fun. He explains: "I ask you a question, and if you don't know the answer, you pay me 5 euro, and vice-versa."
Again, she politely declines and tries to get some sleep.
The corp, now somewhat agitated, says, "Okay, if you don't know the answer you pay me 5 euro, and if I don't know the answer, I will pay you 50 euro" figuring that since she is an uneducated nomad that he will easily win the match.
This catches the nomad's attention and, figuring that there will be no end to this torment unless she plays, she agrees to the game.
The corp asks the first question: "What's the distance from the earth to the moon?"
The nomad doesn't say a word, reaches into her carrybag, pulls out a worn five-euro bill and hands it to the corp.
Now, it's the nomad's turn. She asks the corp: "What goes up a hill with three legs, and comes down with four?"
The corp looks at her with a puzzled look.
He takes out his palmtop e-book computer and searches all his references.
He taps into the digital cellphone via infra-red wireless connection to his modem port and searches the Net and the Library of Congress. Frustrated, he sends E-mail to all his co-workers, subordinates, friends, clients, and suppliers that he knows. And then some. All to no avail. After over an hour, he wakes the nomad and hands her 50 euro. The nomad politely takes the 50 euro and turns away to get back to sleep.
The corp, who is more than a little miffed, wakes the nomad and asks,
"Well, so what IS the answer?"
Without a word, the nomad reaches into her purse, hands the lawyer another 5 euro, and goes back to sleep.
A central american Chrome Beret vet had been drinking at the Forlorn Hope all night. The bartender finally said that the Hope was closing for the night. So the vet stood up to leave and fell flat on his face. He tried to stand one more time; same result. He figured he'd crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that would sober him up.
Once outside he stood up and fell flat on his face. So he decided to crawl the 4 blocks to his home. When he arrived at the door he stood up and again fell flat on his face. He managed the maglocks from his prone position and crawled through the door and into his bedroom.
When he reached his bed he tried one more time to stand up. This time he managed to pull himself upright, but he quickly fell right into bed and is sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was awakened the next morning to his wife standing over him, shouting, "So, you've been out drinking again!!"
"What makes you say that?" he asked, putting on an innocent look.
"The Forlorn Hope called -- you left your cyberleg there again!"
A Street Samurai dressed to kill in his Cryo-Max mirrorshades, Gibson BattleGear jacket with light panels, black leather pants, Katana, H&K Smartgun and MetalGear Boots went to a bar and ordered the House Special.
As he sat there sipping his Blood Razor, a young lady sat down next to him. After she ordered her SoCal Special, she turned to the Samurai and asked him, "Are you a real Street Samurai?"
To which he replied, "Well, I have spent my whole life on the streets, doing muscle work, killing plebes, taking the odd jobs for corps who don't trust their own people, running from Arasaka, eating Kibble one night, and real food the next, so I guess I am."
After a short while he asked her what she was. She replied, "I've never killed anyone so I'm not a Samurai, but I am a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I get up in the morning I think of women, when I eat, shower, watch TV, everything seems to make me think of women." A short while later she left and the Street Samurai ordered another Blood Razor. A fixer sat down next to him, looked him over as potential talent for his next job and asked, "Are you a real Street Samurai?" To which he replied, "I always thought I was, but I just found out that I'm a lesbian."
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