>Jimmy has been staring at his screen for several hours now
>it isn’t interesting at all
>more mundane ATF bullshit
>some sad fucker selling cigarettes to minors
>booring
>people brewing booze on their own, and endless fucking debate concerning if a shoestring can turn an old Garand into a machinegun
>Jimmy looks at his cup of coffee
>it’s empty
>Jimmy looks at the clock
>Seven
>fucking
>hours
>left
>The depressed man gets out of his chair, and heads to his boss’ office
>The man is very much the boss type. A little fat, a little sweaty. The kind of man that would look at his cousin and say “yeah, after a few beers maybe”

Hey boss
>”whatcha want Barry?”
I’m not Barry
>”I don’t care. Why are you here?”
Is there any field work left. Any at all?
>”Why the fuck would you want that?”
I just do. Anything?

>The fat man wipes some sweat off hs forhead, and grins at Jimmy

>”Anything?”
Yes. Anything
>”okay”

>The fat man gives him a single sheet of paper. Its a photo of a house, with some things written next to. Phone number, how to get there, and a take away menu

What’s this?

>”its a… resturant. And a museum And a shooting range, i think. Go there, have lunch and report back all you see”

>Jimmy snaps the paper out of the fat mans hand and hops down to the garage, not wanting to give the man enough time to take the offer back
>The ATF is obviously not cool enough to get these new Chargers, so you settle you hop into a very run down Crown Vic and set off
>The house was situated in a very rural area
>Jimmy notices how that the closer to the house he actually gets, the stranger the vehicles look
>Not the city dwelling Priuses anymore, and not even the raised trucks
>First sign of warning was a red truck, with large white letters written in the back
>There was at least 5 people on the bed, one of them standing with a large MG
>The truck is spewing out black smoke, like it is being fed coal
>a Humvee is overtaken a few minutes later 
 >Jimmy turn off the big road, and onto the gravel path that leads up tp the house
>Its a large, two story house, with some auxillary buildings around it
>There is a very strange collection of things outside the house. A few artillery pieces, a german half-track, one UH-1 helicopter, what appears to be an M47 Patton tank and…
>It’s not until the red truck ant the humvee rolls up and stop next to these vehicles Jimmy realizes that that was in fact the customer parking
>not even the normal cars here were very normal
>Mostly very muddy and green painted 4x4s, all of them with an MG mount on them
>Some two decade old hatchbacks filled to the brim with… god knows what
>a massive station wagon, with some skull with antlers on it’s hood
>Jimmy wasn’t very good in biology, but he was very sure he’d never seen anything like that before
>And if this in fact was the customer parking, what is the plane with bid red stars painted on it, and how did it get there?
>Jimmy is a little confused at this point
>And the actual museum was on the back of the house
>There were children playing outside
>Jimmy had never played “siege” in his life, and he saw way to little off it to get the appeal
>Then again, Jimmy had never played mortar baseball either, so his opinion is worthless in this matter
>As he is halfway to the house itself, a large door slams open in a large single story connection to the main house
>Out of it, two rather small girls are pushing a black motorcycle/ sidecar combo
>one of them is dressed fairly normal, but the other one is wearing what looks like some white-green school uniform
>The two climbs up and in it, and has to help each other out to kickstart it
>The bike wakes to like, and starts moving at breakneck speed down the gravel path
>The girl is the sidecart is holding what looks suspiciously much like a stack of pizza boxes
>Jimmy is a little uncomfortable at this point, but the boss is going to pay for his meal, so he can’t chicken out 

 >Before he can put his hand on the door, a man exits
>Or Jimmy things it’s a man, bit hard to tell behind all the mismatched green gear
>And the Gas mask
>the man is holding an AK in his hand, and is carrying a large backpack

>”they told me to get out”

>He had sorrow in his voice
>Jimmy is scared. If this guy wasn’t fit for this place, how could he be?
>He opens the door
>Its a large hall, with a few large chandeliers in the cieling. They are all mismatched
>There is maybe 60 or 70 perople inside
>There is a lot of noise, cheering singing, arguing, all drowning out some soft jazz played in the background
>There is also… gunfire?
>Jimmy thinks there is gunfire
>muffeled
>He takes a mental note

Ya eatin here alone?

>A woman is approaching him, dressed in what does slightly look like a french maid outfit. 
>All parts that should be white is instead a rough green fabric

>"uhh, yeah. Just some food"

>the woman looks at jimmy, with a hint of disappointment, and suddenly cheers up

>"dont worry hun, we got lotsa seats, get yourself a table and ai'll be right along"


what i have so far. IS this just drivel or ya'll ant more?
>with camo