I took this job after my role at Pacific City was made redundant by those bloody ‘Agents’, six months of placing orbs in decorative spots, giving the city an ambient chiming hum and those ‘roid munchers run around grabbing them all, it was as if there is a map on the Internet with all of the orb locations on it! Either way I’d leave the city once those mutations started rampaging, and take this easy job in Panau. ‘Security guard in Paradise’ the advert said… they neglected to mention the ethnic stereotype bastard with the grappling hook though. Paul was shot over a cliff after the ‘Scorpion’ – as they call him – attatched his leg to a nearby gas cylinder. Poor sod was one day away from retirement.
I am on patrol later with Juan, who seems to have lost motivation somewhat since someone shot his left nut off. Hitler managed perfectly fine with just the one, supposedly, but then again I don’t really think Juan could rock the ‘Chaplin’ with such panache.
Today’s patrol will mostly be based around protecting the petrol stations of Panau. With all the recent chaos we are down to five on the whole island. If the Scorpion keeps up this rampage I won’t be able to take a drive up to the Pubic Topiary Museum at the weekend, and I need to see me some artistically trimmed bush.
Anyway, must dash. Hopefully the screw-ups in charge of the forces here will get my memo about possibly shipping the fuel cans and gas cylinders away from each major security hotspot… it just seems to be the sort of reckless attitude that is causing statues to topple, cranes to crumble and water towers explode.