Orlok and the Potato

Orlok noted as his fingernails were pulled off that they'd probably grow back. It was really gross though.

"If you check in my front left pocket you'll find a note from Gene Wilder, Ceo of the corp i used to be indentured too. I apparently found out something i wasn't supposed to and he had my brain locked and dumped me in whatever arbitrary shithole this part of town is. The memories are still there, I just can't get my brain to them.

What I'm proposing is just a trade, you get someone in the find whatever juicy corporate secret I was unlucky enough to find and do whatever you want with the info, and in exchange I get a place to crash for the next three months, a bazooka, some cash and a potato. The potato is extremely important."

As Orlock spoke Rowan plucked the aforemention paper from his pocket. She waved the gimp back as she read the note.

"You were dumped in Little Tokyo," she explained as she mused over the paper, "You are now in Sojo one level up."

She folded the paper back up and put it neatly back into his pocket.

"Could be interesting, could be pointless. Why would I help you?" Orlock opened his mouth to answer but she pushed her finger of his lips.

"You will fight in the flesh pits. You get a room, cash when you win and my help with your memory if you keep winning. I am not however inclined to arrange for vintage munitions."

She snapped her fingers at the gimp, "That will be all Samuel, take the trolley to my room and fetch me some company... Oh and procure a potato for our new friend here."

She stood and turned to look down at Orlock, "Your first fight is in twelve hours. I will send someone down to clean you up and take you to your rooms."

"You amuse me pretty boy, keep amusing me and life can be good for you, perhaps even great. Cross me and the next thing you lose will definatley not grow back. Believe me I know." And with a wink, she left him to his ruminations.