"...That's Bobbo." [Long pause.] "...I bought a toaster from him once." "...Worked great." "...Until it became a tackle box." [Chair creaks.] "...I don't know how he does it." "...Every week..." "...He's selling something different." "...Taxis." "...Cyberarms." "...Discount organs." "...Shotguns." "...Camping supplies." "...Industrial pumps." "...Military surplus." "...Fishing bait." "...A washing machine." "...A mortar." "...I think I bought both from the same store." [Another pause.] "...Honestly..." "...If civilization ended tomorrow..." "...Bobbo would probably have a table set up by lunchtime." "...Cash only." [A quiet chuckle.] "...Anyway." "...Here's Mad Worg." "Forsaken Gang-Goon." "...Hit it."
