2018.10.12: Slugs, Drugs, and What-the-Fugs

Slugs, Drugs and What-the-Fugs
The Devil's Own Pack hears Epping's call for assistance with a project
IC Date	October 12th, 2018
Players	Epping ST, Isla, Jes, The_Devil's_Own
Location	In the bad part of Prospect
Spheres	Gaian Garou Shifter

You heed the call of one of your brothers. He says he needs "handlers" to "handle a certain matter". It requires you venture into the city and meet him at a certain corner in the bad part of town. The city here stinks like garbage, chemicals and humans. Regardless, there you are and there he is...on the conrner. Epping, aka Deals. New in town. Of no reputation.

It's been a bit of a trek for The Devil's Own, but once the truck is parked somewhere relatively safe the dynamic duo arrive, side by side and ready to heed the call. Jes is smoking a Nat Sherman and looking around, muttering to Isla, "I prefer home." He spots Deals, ambling over, and ducks his head, but leaves the introductions to his Alpha.

Naiche for his part Naiche is here. Naiche, is always here it feels like, the Lupus, just sort of on the edge of things. Of course, when Epping might start asking for help with some 'handlers'- well Naiche is right up and center asking questions. "handling things though.. " This gets Naiche's curiosity, "Handling? Like.. like what? Like a bag? Or a Potato? Or what if it is like...." He pauses to look about to the rest of the crowd before addressing the dealman, "What if need.. more than one set of hands! What if it is like, too-oh... this is why you.. okay!" Naiche just smiles cheerfully then, all sorts of excitable. Not really grasping the underhanded nature of the situation right away.

Isla coughs a bit, trying to hide a laugh. "Aye, home is so much sweeter than this abyss. But when there is a call, might as well see what we can do." She approaches Epping with Jes in tow. "Hey! We heard there was a need fer some help. We happened to be near by and figured we could lend a couple of hands. I'm Isla, and this is buddy Jes." She peers over to Naiche and just considers him for a moment before looking back to Epping.

Epping nods to Jes and Isla. "Epping," he says quietly. He gestures with his thumb to Naiche and asks, "This one with you?"

Jes takes his cigarette out of his mouth, pointing it at Naiche without looking at him. "He's learning disabled, isn't he?" he asks flatly, looking to Epping for the answer as he replaces the cigarette in his mouth. "I hope he can carry shit or something. This isn't Sesame Street, I'm not gonna teach him the alphabet." He looks aside to Isla, smiling slightly, and adds, "We're The Devil's Own. New pack, same great taste. Here to do dirty deeds and whatnot. He... fuck, I don't know that guy. I thought he was with you."

Naiche for his part just smiles softly in response to the trio's reaction to him, just seemingly always cheerful for the time being even as he reaches up to scratch under his chin, "I'm with myself, you know, heard someone was looking for help with things. Thought, good opportunity to learn some things, see things. You know." All offered with that cheerful smile even as he glances aside to Jes and Isla in turn, head tilting to the side before there is a vague nod then as his nose twitches, "So, what's the plan? Or the problem? Or the thing that needs to be 'handled?"

Isla smirks as Jes speaks, and replies as well with a shake of her head. "Nae, he ain't with us. We've had our Rite of Passage. We dinnae bring younger siblings around to this sort of stuff. What's the job?" She is always, ready for action.

At the mention of dirty deeds Epping replies, "You're just who I'm looking for then. Thanks for answering the call."

To Naiche, Epping replies, "We're not here to teach and this mission isn't for cubs. The things we're gonna learn and see...you don't wanna." He pauses and his expression hardens. "I'll take the Devil's Own but this mission requires...finesse." He offers a grimace and holds out his empty hands. "I'll call you if we need to knock over a Quik-E-Mart."

Jes' eyebrows bob at the reply, and he bounces on his toes a bit, smiling broadly and puffing on his cigarette. "Aces," he says immediately, giving Isla a nudge. "We got this, Peach. Just the kind of trouble we've been looking for. So what's the game, Deals? I mean, I love a secret mission and all, but a starting point would be fantastic." He finally looks aside to Naiche, giving him a shrug; there'll be no saving words for him here.

Naiche smiles softly in response to Epping, "is very touched, concerned, happy that you have decided to show Naiche such consideration, but will be fine, will be very fine. yes? Just let do what needed, and will be good yes? Can help quite a bit. Most certainly. Honestly!" Naiche offers, still all cheerful then, "Just uh, give chance! Totally! A Big chance! You won't regret it. Probably. Unless you do." Naiche inhales sharply then before he hums softly, "Either way! Exciting, running with a new pack, see how they do things. Always interesting. Always exciting. Tragic maybe? Maybe."

Isla looks at Naiche, one eyebrow quirked up. "Where is yer parents, wee one? Seriously, how are they allowing ye to be out in this part of town?" She looks to Jes and shakes her head before back to Epping, "Up to ye if ye wants this bouncy toddler with us, but sounds like we got something much more serious and I do not aim to fuck this up." She is really rather surprised by this guy.

"Most definitely not," Epping says to Naiche. "I don't give chances. My gut tells me you aren't right for this mission and I'm going with it." His eyes Narrow and he points in the opposite direction. Tone is firm. "Go."

"I feel like I'm hanging out with an off-the-boat cab driver," Jes mutters as he puffs his cigarette, shaking his head and grumbling further to himself. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a phone and thumbing it off. As Naiche is dismissed again, the Ragabash shrugs and says, "Tough luck, Edward Humanhands. Sorry."

Naiche still seems cheerful then as he dips his chin, "Okay! Just don't get your throats torn out! Or get Eaten! Or uh, oh, covered in acid?" Naiche hums as he taps at his lips then with his index finger, "Or something terrible like that. Strangled? With a giant tail?" Naiche hums as he turns to start wandering off then, murmuring as he goes thinking of all the horrible ways to get murdered then, "Or decapitated when giving introductions? Or.. uh.. get your brain fucked up by some weird skost thing?" Naiche mumbles as he wanders along, and out of sight.

Epping shakes his head, letting out a sigh of relief: "Sorry about that. You never know who'll show up." He shrugs and continues, "So I've been monitoring stuff here in the city and there's a messenger service, you know, bikes or by foot. Anyway, I started seeing them do a lot of afterhours deliveries. Seemed odd. Started looking into it. Anyway, I got puked on by some poison and almost died but I'm fine now. I'll tell you that one later." He pauses and looks at the cheap watch on his wrist. "Anyway, tonight we're tracking a regular delivery. And if it is what I think it is we've got our work cut out for us."

Isla claps her hands together. "Well then, let's track it." She watches Naiche leave and grins. "Poor pathetic cubs. Hey, sorry to hear ye got messed up by that poison. Is that related to this op?" She would love to know what to prepare for. "Oh, and any special things we need for this? We got a few things with us if needed, but sounds pretty much like recon at least at first."

Jes takes another drag off of his cigarette before putting the stub out on his rather expensive watch, pulling the pack from his pocket and sliding the dead butt in to replace it with a live round. He lights it up with a Zippo, puffing again, and asks, "And you think it's /what/, exactly? I mean, I can hazard a guess, but I'm only guessing based on your story, which seems pointless since you have a theory. We're in regardless, but details help the game plan."

"A strong stomach," Deals replies to Isla. As he says this a fixie wizzes towards them, high end wheels hissing as the rider pedals through the turn. "That'll be the 5:30 delivery right on time." He gestures subtlety to the bike coming towards them. "Anyone got any tracking gifts?"

Isla shakes her head, "Nothing beyond what Gaia gave us. We're still working on that." The new Cliaths are not afraid of a challenge though. "And if you saw what we had to handle when we just found Weasel... we can handle stomach churning." Egads, does she still smell some of that in her hair?

"Not a one, dawg," Jes admits, shaking his head. "Fresh out the Rite. But like she said, nothing's gonna match what we had to deal with seeking a Totem. Living garbage... never mind. I don't wanna go there." He drags deep on his cigarette, settling his stomach, and looks aside to Isla, rolling his eyes. You know, behind his sunglasses. Because she can see that. To Epping, he adds, "Just gotta do it the old-fashioned way."

"Old fashioned it is," Epping says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of something or other. He cleverly drops it on the ground into the bike lane and then steps back up on the curb. As the bike passes he says, "Can I get one of those smokes?" He makes a whole show of getting the cigarette, getting a light...it's a lot of drama for a cigarette but it's a good screen for why they are hanging out on the corner near dusk. The bike rides past and rolls over the packet with silently explodes its paint payload on the back tire. The rider, headphones one eyes focused on the road, has yet to notice.

"Shall we?", Epping says pointing to the trail of paint the bike is now leaving.

Isla nods. "Absolutely." She turns on her heel, and begins to follow the trail. Not walking fast, just a normal pace as she goes, knowing Jes will be right on her heels. The trail is not hard to follow at all. "That was good prep there, Epping."

Jes shakes a cigarette from his pack, handing it over to Epping and offering his lighter. He blows the smoke out of his nose, glancing aside at the object on the ground but not making a thing of it. He gets it. When the packet blows up, he grins slightly, muttering, "Cute", and tilts his head to Isla. "Lead on, Fiery Bellona. You go, I follow, as always." He's hot on her heels, keeping his walk casual, and chats Epping up idly. "We're set up outside of town. You with the locals? I hear there's two groups; city and country. I guess we make three."

Epping is keeping an eye on each.

The bike winds its way through the slums of Prospect taking a route that is both circuitous but algorithmically efficient. Fast food chains, murder marts, boarded up storefronts until the trail ends at a stop sign where the fixie glistens like a prize pet triple locked to the pole. The block is dominated by a squat, single story warehouse dating back to probably the 1920s. There's a door with iron bars on it and the windows have been painted black, also have bars on them. The facade is brick and shitty and covered in obscene graffiti.

Epping surveys the building while he digs into his coat pocket for something.

Isla stops a respectable distance away, not out in the open, but they have a view of the bike and what is around it. "Ach, what a mansion that is. Can only imagine such good wholesome things going on in there." She looks back to Epping and Jes. "Well, we see where it is, and now what is yer plan, Epping?"

"I'm sure it's all tea parties and fashion shows," Jes replies to Isla drolly, ducking away and leaning casually while he smokes his cigarette. "If you've got a plan for getting in there, as the lady says, out with it. If not... I find the direct approach is a classic. I can probably get us in."

"It's evolving," Epping replies. He takes three pennies out of his pocket. Kisses them each and hands two to Isla and Jes. "For luck," he says quite seriously. "I'm gonna circle to the left. Isla, circle left and meet back here in three. Jes, see what you can gather about the front door and give a listen inside."

Isla takes the penny and slips it away. "Aye, will do." A hand goes on Jes' shoulder. "See ya on the other side, Sprinkles." She winks to him, her trust in her Beta evident. Following Epping directions, she heads around to see what she can find out before circling back to their meeting place.

"I can probably do better than that," Jes replies with a sneaky grin, taking his penny and flipping it once before sliding it into his back pocket. He pulls his phone back out, pressing a few buttons. "I've talked my way into weirder spots. Give me your number, I'll hit you on text once it's a good time to follow in. Or a bad time. A time, anyway. Seriously, I got this."

Epping and Jes exchange numbers. As Epping slides along the wall of the building the tell-tale sign of Blur of the Milky Eye cloaks him.

Jes types in an innocent-enough text message -- 'U tell the boss yet?' -- before pocketing his cell phone and making his way right over to the front door, keeping his stroll leisurely to give the others time to do their thing. He even pauses to puff on his cigarette and look at his phone again, playing the part convincingly, before knocking on the door to the beat of 'March of the Tin Soldiers' and standing just far enough back to be easily seen through a spy hole or whatever.

There's knocking but there's no response. No one answers yet.

Isla heads around where she is to scout. Sliding down the other side of the building and... under her breath she says, "FUUUCK!" Of course, dumpsters. Why the hell is she on trash duty again?? She checks out the building around and nothing here really but blacked out windows. She focuses to see if any of those wolf senses can help and sure enough - PING! Her eyes open and she blinks. Heading out of there she moves back to the rendezvous point to tell the others.

Epping arrives not long after Isla. "Weird," he says quietly. "Weird noises. Music maybe?, Someone's haggling with the messenger in there. Also, there's a back entrance. What'd you find?"

"No answer here," Jes replies with a shrug, putting out his cigarette on the wall and placing the stub back in the pack. "Back entrance, huh? How about I have a look at it and we go inside? Won't take a second to get us in, unless you think this way's faster."

Isla hmms, "Well, I did not hear anything, but I can tell ye this. That place REEKS of the Wyrm. Whatever is going on in there, we need to put an end to it." She looks toward where Jes is, hoping he fares alright.

"Flip a coin," he takes out his penny. "Heads the front. Tails the back." He tosses it in the air and catches it flips it over.

Epping comes up with heads. "Backdoor it is." The crew slides around to the back door. It's similar to the front but shittier. Still same bars on it. Got a couple of pad locks as well. "Open seal?", Epping says, pointing to the door.

Isla looks to Epping, "Go fer it. Otherwise, we can just break it down." She is still new at this and thinks more along the lines of mundane ways about it.

"On it," Jes replies with a grin, eyebrows bobbing as he looks the lock over and nods. "Okay, even if I can't, I'm pretty sure I can crack this anyway. People have no idea how cheap these things are, seriously." He licks his lips, smiling and biting his tongue at the same time, and waves fingers over two of the padlocks, muttering, "Abracadabra, fucker."

Epping gestures around one of the padlocks and manages to seemingly will it open. It silently slides open. "Ladies first," Epping says, gesturing to the now unlocked door.

Isla steps inside just a bit, looking both ways. Then gets in just a bit further to let the others in.

Jes is right after Isla, not offering Epping the option, and he's got his eyes out as well for anything she might miss. He doesn't make noise, but he's not hiding as such; that'd look suspicious. If you look like you belong, there's always a chance to talk yourself right into something.

The door swings open to reveal what looks to be a low rent/low class office space...with a few extras. To the left of the door is an entertainment unit that doubles as a desk and work area. Shitty Dell humming on the floor attached to a (stolen) flat screen. A reality TV show is running on an old school broadcast unit bolted to a metal arm on the upper wall. There's a living room area with a coffee table and some weed looking to be rolled into joints. There is other stuff as well. Glass bottles, water bottles a myriad of containers some of them looking like they have some rotten milk in them.

But things don't get weird until you look to the right. Three square metal cages meant to hold hamsters or something stand next to each other. Inside them? Not hamsters. Slug-like but not slugs beasts with huge owl eyes and thick rubbery yellow skin. They have small sharp teeth and when they see the pair enter they begin to hop slightly and their teeth chatter. They emit a small chittering noise seemingly of pleasure.

Beyond is a door and beyond that, Epping wasn't kidding. Some noise, vaguely musical but...not. Two men talking or really arguing at this point:

"That's the end of it! Take the cash and go!"

Isla is not surprised, but not liking these creatures in the cages. "That is wrong." She wonders what they were before. Her head turns toward the arguments, "Well, shall we introduce ourselves? Perhaps you can provide a little fast talking, Sprinkles?" It seems time to just step in now. "Unless you all want to prowl around in here and see what the Wyrm is up to?"

"Sure, I'll see to that, you two... uncover secret evil shit," Jes replies with a grin, sauntering over to the voices. He does, however, reach behind his back, drawing a pistol and checking the chamber really quick before putting it back in his waistband. He gives the others a twenty-count before he starts whistling, making sure he's not startling anyone unnecessarily.

Epping doesn't reply. He gestures for Isla to flank the wall next to the door. He's on his knees thumb on the power button of that Dell. The thing goes down like a drunk on an escalator and he pries it open and pulls the hard drive. He pockets it and then presses his back flat to the wall.

The front door opens with a squeal and then crashes closed. Footsteps...

Wait for it...

Wait for it..

Wait...

The door opens and in comes some mixed race 20 something with donut eating mustache, trucker cap and skinny jeans. He's got, what looks to be, has to be...but don't want it to be...a butcher's package. Roast by the size of it. As he enters, boy howdy!, the rabbit sized bugs in the cages go into a chittering frenzy. It's like they've never seen it before...or there is blood in the water. Either way the slick black eyes are bugging out and the teeth are chittering like they are about to crack!"

Isla gets into position by the wall, and waits to see Jes in action. She sees Epping pull the hard drive and then there he is! One of the guys in this place and what the hell does he have? She is silent as she waits to spring into whatever action will be needed.

Jes is unfazed. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes again, putting one to his lips, and offering the pack toward Bill the Butcher while he lights his. "Feeding time already?" he asks, taking a puff and then pulling the cigarette from his lips. "I was told that was later. Fucking mixed messages, man. Still, pretty cool; I haven't seen them feed yet. Smoke?"

The man nearly shits himself when he sees Jes standing there smiling. The package does down on the floor with a we sound summoning an intensification of the chittering from the things in the cage. "What...what the...fuck...", the guys is just completely taken off guard. Composing himself he says. "You looking to buy, man? If so, go around front next time." He leans down to pick up the butcher paper wrapped package.

Behind him Epping reaches into his coat and begins to slide something out from it...

"No, dude. I'm Deej. I was here a few days ago," Jes replies with a shake of his head, rattling the cigarette pack. "I'm with uptown. Got asked to come around for check-ups. Seriously, these are Nat Shermans, you should have one. They cost enough I shouldn't share, but fuck it, I'm about to get a show, might as well buy a ticket. Are you Doug? Fuck, not Doug; that's that other dude. Which one are you?" He is not at all put off by the sudden sputter and whatnot, acting totally, completely casual. He's not the intruder here; the /butcher/ is.

Isla stands there with a smirk. Jes is so good at this. Her curly flaming red hair falls around her, and she approaches next to Jes, and slips an arm around his waist, pulling herself close like a good girlfriend would do. "I thought it was Rick? I cannot remember now fer sure what name ye told me, honey." She plays all innocent and enraptured by Jes. She hopes it provides more distraction for Epping to do his thing.

The guy stands and just looks at Jes with a bewildered expression and replies, "Deej. Right." His voice is faint like he's trying to remember, doesn't, but thinks he should. "Travis, man. I'm Travis." He finally concludes. He turns and glances at Isla. "Are you from corporate? L.A.? I'll have the samples in a second. Just let me feed them and then I'll milk them." He starts to unwrap the paper revealing what looks to be a human thigh. He moves to the cage. Oh shit do those bugs go crazy. The cages start shaking and shit.

As the turns, Epping lashes out a black knife shaped like a fang.

"No, baby, Rick was the guy with the stuff," Jes replies to Isla, giving her a grin and leaning over to kiss her cheek. "This is... not Doug. Travis. Sorry, man, I just don't come down here enough. It's why I'm here now; had a drop-off, supposed to pick something up to bring back. You know how it is, always carrying shit one way or the other, even though we got guys on bikes for that shit. Some stuff doesn't fly well on two wheels, dig?"

Ah, but then there's Epping, taking the initiative. Jes lets go of Isla's arm, bracing himself in case shit goes bad, and draws his gun, waving it at Epping and saying, "What the fuck?" and nudging Isla toward the cages.

Isla isn't sure what the fuck these things are in the cages, but she will do what she can to calm them the fuck down. "Shhhh, Chill out!" She can see what this guy must be feeding them, and they are just wrong. Totally wrong. She is ready in case they need her to step in with this Travis dude, but between the gun and fang dagger, it looks handled.

Travis is about to reply, the words come to his lips but Epping cuts his head clean off with a black dagger of polished ivory. His head rolls and the thigh falls from the butcher paper. Some blood oozes from it. The bugs go totally crazy and one of the cages falls to the floor with the shaking. The chittering is horrific but hypnotic.

Jes puts his gun away, sparing a glance for the dead body on the floor and sighing once. "Well, that's handled. I guess we kill these damn things, and... what? Set fire to the warehouse? Whatever they're milking out of these bastards, I don't want it out there. This is already giving me the fucking creeps. What say you, Peach?"

"Wait...," Epping says, giving a cautionary expression. "I mean, yes, obviously but wait." He gestures to the door leading to the other room. "What's in there?"

Isla considers the cage. "I ain't picking that cage up - damn thing is going to want to bite me as it wants our flesh." She looks toward the door and shrugs, "Let's check it out." She heads over and looks to see if there are any locks or if she can just open it up.

"Aight, I'll wait," Jes replies, following after Isla and putting a halt on the monster-slaying for the moment. "We can check out the whole place and see what other fucked-up insanity is going on in here. Probably some sort of Wyrmy meth lab with super mutants and shit."

Epping kneels down and wipes the blood from his dagger on Travis's clothes. "Have a peek, then." He thumbs towards the door.

Isla reaches for the door, and pulls it open slowly. Unsure what they will find in there, and hoping something does not come out that means to eat them.

Isla looks inside the door and opens it up so Jes can look in over her shoulder. "Fucking hell. Druggies? Or Prisoners? Either way - looks like we need to get them the fuck out of here before we burn out the Wyrm." The dozen or more recliners inside are half filled with people seeming to be relaxed but not asleep. Zoned out, drugged out - who knows? Velvet paintings on the walls, and low cheap lighting fill the room. She can hear some people weeping, and the boom box just to the right of the door is playing some sort of "music".

Epping gets up and takes a look as well. "Huh," he says, scratching his head. He takes a step into the room. No one moves. Another step. The people are sacked out. He walks over to one of the people in the lazy boy and waves his hand over their eyes. Nothing. He looks back at Isla and Jes with a questioning expression.

Jes sighs, putting a palm to his face, and mutters, "Oh, fuck me anyway." He steps out of the room and out of sight -- not that they're paying attention -- and comes back in Glabro, muttering, "Now we've got to play orderly to the fucking nod-outs. I thought there'd be a /fun/ part to this. Let's get moving and get 'em away from the building, yeah?"

"This isn't heroine," Epping says. He points to one of the nod outs. "They've got some shit on their face and are...inhaling it...like Vic..." Meanwhile, the music keens and the bugs are rattling their cages like they've never been fed.

Isla nods, "We get them out of here. Like just moved out. Those things in the cages need killed PERIOD. That is way too Wyrmy as fuck to live. And if they break open those cages? We are in for a hell of a mess."

"Well, go kill 'em while I start on this lot and get 'em outside," Jes replies sourly, going over to the first junkie and hefting him off his seat and over his shoulder. He's not delicate, but it'll do; mercy isn't always gentle.

Epping leans down and extracts the cell phone from one of the nod-out's pockets and says, "Let's off the...things and then call 911. Be done with it. This is beyond my jurisdiction." He heads back to Isla and Jes. "Pretty sure that's what puked on me a few weeks ago so...be careful. How should we kill them you think?"

Isla walks back toward the cages. She looks around and then to Epping. "I'm not sure how tough that skin is. And if they eat human flesh, well, we need to make it swift. How about I open the cage and you use that dagger of yours on them. We take it one by one?"

"Oh, fuck that," Jes says as soon as Epping mentions the puke again, putting the man back down on his set. "Yeah, we dial 911 from the phone here and get the fuck outta Dodge. Maybe bust up some of these bottles, too, so they're no good. Don't want this shit sitting in an evidence locker forever." He looks around, picking up a claw hammer, and hefts it. "Yeah, you'll do. Okay, I'm gonna wreck some shit, and when we're ready I'll make the call and we get waaaaay out."

"Fuck that," he replies to Isla. "They are pukers. I'm not looking to get toxic sludged twice in one month. I say we lure them into the dumpster outside with the meat and then torch it -then- we call 911 and get the fuck out of here."

Isla cackles, "Hell yeah. Fire is a great way to fuck the Wyrm, and these... abominations. Good idea. Sprinkles, help me grab the cages. I'll find something to pick up the ... meat." She is rather disgusted by it, but if it works?

Jes sets his hammer down and picks up two of the cages, holding them out like a weightlifting exercise, and says, "Lead on, and lead fast, because they're antsier than coked-up ferrets." He heads for the back door, snapping at one of the creatures, "Settle the fuck down or I start shaking this thing!"

Dumpster gets opened and oh...gods what is that smell? Garbage. Meat rotting on heavily chewed on femurs tibia. Meat goes into the dumpster and the chittering creatures along with it. The crew steps back and watches as one of them goes for the thigh. Another goes along with it. Not happening. A third one joins in and they begin to fight amongst themselves, soon burning and poisoning themselves with their vile evacuations.

"Light it" Epping says to the Devil's Own. "Let's get out of here. I've got to have a look at this hard drive before I hand it over."

Isla puts her hand into Jes' pocket and pulls out his lighter. She finds a piece of some trash and lights it on fire. Dropping it into the dumpster, she stands back, expecting horrific squeals. She slips that lighter back into Jes' pocket.

Woosh! The dumpster goes up in a foul conflagration. The creatures are too busy fighting over the meat to notice they are being consumed by the flames. Indeed, they do scream but in aggression not in pain.

"Right. Peach, you can get that hammer and smash some shit, I'm gonna call the cops," Jes says flatly, taking his lighter back and looking to Epping. "You should probably make sure anything else that needs smashing gets its wish. Then we fucking /go/. Cool?"

Epping agrees.

They follow the plan, smashing and clear anything that could break the Veil. They toss anything that can burned into the dumpster, and then leave the place after calling the cops.