MAXINE OUR SUNDAY GUEST
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Maxine Stone's New LifeChapter 284: The Gangsta Way free porn video
I went home from the club for a couple of hours rest, as I had begun to think of the recharging. I could go a couple of days on just normal free electron charging. If I wore the solar vest outside, I could go on reduced power indefinitely or so they claimed. I hated the reduced power phase, that is why I recharged as often as most people just sat resting. I guess it was pretty much the same thing. Replenishing the energy pool.
Whatever it amounted to I rested for an hour or so, then turned on my computer link to watch a TV show or two. I still enjoyed most of the things I had before the big change in my status. I went from human to the real terminator, even though I hadn't been asked to terminate anyone. We still didn't know, if I would do it or not. None of us knew for sure. We were all feeling our way along.
I needed to manipulate the system, since there was no way I could operate without it. I needed the input link and the spare parts. I had yet to make my case for the body upgrade, so for the moment that ball was in the creator's court.
The theme from Mag7 played on the smarter than smart phone, so I answer it with, "Stone here."
"Ms Stone my name is Thomas Wiliford. Is there any chance I could take you to lunch today?" the voice asked.
"Not unless I know more about you than your name. You wouldn't happen to be the stranger. who was asking about me at the Cloak and Dagger would you?"
"I suppose that was me yes," he replied simply.
"Well Tom, it's like this. I have a couple of people who would enjoy seeing me dead, so I'm a little careful about where I go and who I meet with. I don't much care to make new friends, if you get my drift." I said.
"I can get you references, if you like," he suggested very seriously.
Meet with him, the controller planted the message in my head.
Fuck you, I silently resplied to the controller. This yahoo could be setting me up for an IED.
"So who are your references, aside from Simon the Jew," I asked.
"Well what if I had the Admiral call you?" he suggested.
This clown is a novelist, the controller said. Here, with that the image of a book jacket and picture appeared in my brain.
"Do you have a cell phone?" I asked.
"Yes, I am speaking on it now," he said.
"Then turn it around and take a picture of yourself and send it to me. If you can do that and you match the picture I have of you, then I'll meet you." I said.
"Where did you get a picture of me. You were in my clubhouse and in that room are about a dozen people with cell phones at any given time. Do you really think no one took your picture or that I wouldn't pull the surveillance tape after I was told you were asking about me?" I asked.
"Okay, I get it hold on." A second later his picture appeared on my smarter phone. "So do I match your picture?" he asked.
"You look younger on your book, but then if I were providing a picture like that, I would look younger and with bigger boobs," I said with a small laugh. What I didn't say was that he was a handsome devil probably twenty pounds overweight, but not bad at all.
"So lunch?" he asked.
"Well today I am likely to be carless in Aster. My car is in the shop. Can you make it tomorrow or do you want to meet me at Helen's Sit Down.
"I had something a little quieter in mind," he answered.
"I'm sure you did," While we spoke I had been checking some of his book review. The prick was the Michael Moore of the print industry. After the reviews I couldn't believe that the controllers, or more likely the case officer, wanted me to meet with the prick.
"Do you really want to be seen talking to me," he asked with a laugh. Then he added, "Why don't I pick you up for lunch. I am sure that you can kick my ass and force me to bring you home anytime you want."
"No thanks, I want my own ride. I might need to dump your body somewhere, it is much more convenient in my own car. Call me tonight and I'll set up a time for you." I hung up before he could plead his case further.
"Are you quite mad," I said aloud to the wall. It was meant for the controller.
Your case officer is right here and he believes that you can handle Wiliford. The man probably wants to do a novel about one of your adventures. It will be fiction, but he most likely wants to get your take on it, was the controllers reply.
"You will be lucky if I don't kill him in front of a dozen witnesses. He is most likely going to make me some kind of troll with a knife in my hand dripping blood." I said to no one.
And that would be a completely false image? was the reply that appeared in my brain.
"Yes it would, I always wipe the knives clean. My daddy taught me to always clean my tools after use," I snapped.
Temper,. temper, just meet with the prick and try to find out what his plan is. Then try to change his perception of you. It might be to your advantage later.
I had planned to go back to the Dagger after my rest, so I went over for a quick drink and to show that I wasn't concerned. The show was for the patrons who might know that some stranger was asking about me. I didn't want a 'kill on sight' order floating around for Wiliford. Of course that might not be a bad idea, I thought.
"Hey Maxine, I saw on the TV news last night you have been nominated for an Emmy," one of the oriental men stated as I passed his table.
"I think there must have been a shortage of reality TV shows, so the pool of choices was very small. My guess is all of them got nominated," I replied.
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