(2016-09-06) They Also Serve Who Break and Enter
They Also Serve who Break and Enter
Summary: Mon goes scavenging for CS gas grenades. In the cop shop, where else?
Date: 2016.09.06
Related: None
Players:
monica..

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Police Station Stratford
Tue Sep 06, 2016 — Tue Sep 06 20:01:34 2016


The squat brick building is exactly what one would expect for a small town police station. It only consists of a few rooms with the holding cells in the back.

Dividing the large central room is a long counter with various desks on one side and a waiting area on the entrance side. The office of the Sheriff is behind a door to the left and a couple of interrogation rooms on the left. A secured door near the back leads downstairs to the long term holding cells.


Weather:
It is summer. The weather is warm and overcast.

Contents:
Monica - 5'7, slender, early 20s. Blond hair, and her face is a little rough.
Exits: [O] N. Texas Street (NTS)
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<FS3> Monica rolls Welding: Success.

<Scavenge> Monica searches and finds:
1 Small bag of Goldfish crackers
1 1 Small bag Plain Potato Chips
1 12 Gauge Shot Gun

<Scavenge> Monica searches and finds:
1 A pack of Dry Erase markers
1 Handcuff Keys
1 Door Ram

<Scavenge> Monica searches and finds:
1 Pair of Handcuffs
1 Bottle of Water

Monica spends 1 luck points on To find some bloody tear gas.
<FS3> Monica rolls Search + 50: Great Success.

Monica rummages through the police station. She brings her cutting torch and, somewhat reluctantly, applies it to the lock of the weapons room. She can't help but flinch back, even with her welding mask on. “If there's something explosive right behind the lock…” Nothing happens. She finds out why when she opens the door. “Aw man, They cleaned it out before they left.” She sighs and climbs in to search.

She searches it a long time. "Shotgun… mm. Could be useful for experiments." Then there is a handcuff key. "Now if I just had any…" she finds handcuffs. After trying them with the key to make sure they work as advertised, she puts the cuffs on one wrist as a bracelet, and tucks the key in her pocket. Then goes on searching.

“You're getting weird, Mon. Really, you are,” she mutters. “Maybe sniffing too much nitrocellulose or perchlorate. Probably lucky my hands didn't catch fire.” Catching fire, she recalls, was the second book in the Hunger Games series. She pauses and shakes her head. “Yeah. Fat lot that book does me now.”

She's just about to give up when, under a pile of beer cans, she finds a metal suitcase. She considers it a moment, then hauls it out of the weapons room. “Heavy,” she mutters. She pauses in the light of a window and looks skyward, the direction from which help so seldom comes. Then gets out the pry-bar.

A little encouragement later, the lock on the case fails. When she opens it, it contains an M79 grenade launcher, and a dozen CS gas grenades. Mon beams. “Jackpot.” She checks the grenades. “Expired… 1986…” She looks at them. “Does tear gas go bad? Hell if I know. The propellant should still be good. That, at least, I know something about.” She scratches her head. "I hope Terry knows how to use this. 'Cause I sure don't."

Monica slings the shotgun over her shoulder, closes up the case, jangles the handcuffs on her wrist, and heads out.

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