[b]"But I'll humor you and say this up front. I'll take your offer. And hopefully you can grow a pair and spit it out with a little less hint of pissing yourself."[/b]

"Good," he said, though he was soon interrupted by the cyborg with the charge cells.  "We'll pay 5% after we sell the stuff."  He waited for the other man to stop hitting on her long enough for them to talk business.  At least he got to talking about her weapon and armor before too much longer.  "If you two will excuse me," he said after a little while, "I need to go pick up my trailer so that we can haul more stuff back, then I'm going to bed.  Meet me in front of the bar at eight AM tomorrow and we can leave."

He laid his mostly-full bottle of Jack on the counter for them to drink and walked outside.  It had gotten dark fast, and he could see a few fireflies lighting themselves up in the street.  Or, at least he hoped it was just fireflies and not some kind of irradiated, glowing insect that was going to attack.  You could never be too sure.  He went to the place where he bought the trailer and helped the old man move the rest of the junk off.  He then thanked the man and rolled the remarkably well balanced trailer to the back of T'lora's Jeep where he hooked it up.  He threw out a blanket on it and laid down, deciding to sleep outside on such a nice night instead of spending more of his scarce amount of money on a room.  Besides, he was sure if the cyborg had his way, they'd need a room at the tavern much more than he would.