I loved this: “What's in the poke, Pancho?” I asked, but the kid
didn't speak
American.  I had to repeat myself in English.  “Do you have a letter
for me?”

Thanks for giving us another reason to be annoyed that BGG is down :P

On Feb 2, 10:08 am, Ryan Twombly <[email protected]> wrote:
> Far be it from me to miss out having a crack at a captive audience (or
> at least a bored audience).  When BGG is back up, you can visit the
> Shogun or Game Design boards to view an invitation to playtest my new
> design.  It's a route optimization game with dynamic goals, plenty of
> options, specialized characters, direct confrontation and a Cube
> Tower!  As for theme, below is the Introduction to my Rules version 1.
>
> The name's Frank Darrow.  I'm a Private Eye.
>
> Sleuthing in LA has been a one man game ever since Julius Diamond
> cracked the Carpathia double homicide back in '31.  With Julie
> snagging a new headline in every other Times, all us regular Joes have
> had to subsist on divorce cases and missing Lhasa Apsos.  Not that
> he's has kept it all to himself.  Every dick in the city has done
> freelance work for the Diamond Detective Agency.  We lay down the
> shoeleather and DDA takes the credit.  Business as usual in the City
> of Angels.
>
> So the day a wet-nosed kid in a blue-and-white monkey suit showed up
> in my waiting room with the Diamond Eye logo peeking out of his
> message bag, I ate a whole can of tuna on wheat crackers before I
> unlocked the inside door.  Sure money's tight.  But pride's even
> tighter.
>
> “What's in the poke, Pancho?” I asked, but the kid didn't speak
> American.  I had to repeat myself in English.  “Do you have a letter
> for me?”
>
> He cleared his throat and pulled his mouth harp out of a breast
> pocket.
>
> I batted it aside.  “Never mind the floorshow, kid, just gimme the
> package.”
>
> The kid scowled  at me as he fished out the envelope.  “I get paid by
> the song, ya know.”
>
> I palmed him a nickel.  “Just whistle through your teeth on the way
> out.”
>
> Back at my desk I examined the large white envelope with some
> admiration.  Eight-by-ten, logo on front and clasp.  Custom print
> job.  Julie does everything with style.  I slit the top with my pen
> knife.  Inside was a single typed sheet between two pieces of black
> felt and a five-by-seven photograph.  I read the caption on the photo
> first.  It was of a dead girl.  She was seven years dead.  But she had
> been alive, and then some.  The photo proved it.  It proved a lot, and
> very little of what it proved had ever made the papers.  I could think
> of a half-dozen pencil scratchers who would have bitten their lower
> lips in half for a peek at this little beauty.  Why Julie had sent it
> to me was the subject of the letter.  I won't bore you with the
> details, but it was the opportunity of a lifetime....
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