Alas

Bottler being... Bottler.

"
I’m not an easy person to anger.

My Punchy, however. Is.

And she will not hesitate to remind you of that fact.

So with that out of the way.

We are Scrappers. You can call it any cavalier nonsense you wish - but, in the end, you still will be called a Scrapper. Along with thief, rat, killer, murderer and a countless score of other angry sounds, but first and foremost… if you are to work on this crew?

You are a Scrapper.

You are taking things that are metal and sentient apart for the end goal of a profit. You are taking those parts and selling them because in this day and age, mechanical components have not yet been made to grow on trees. And as there is a demand of the many, must there be a supply from the few.

So, yes, scrapping is what is putting that extra coin in your coffers.
Whatever reason has lead you to this path in life, what horrible and sordid past you may be dragging along with you like a millstone, know this.

We do not care.

Well, I don’t.

I’m sure someone else would love to hear your tale of woe.

I highly suspect its quality rivals that of used dish water.

However. We do not take kindly to having our livelihood taken as an opportunity for vendetta, hate-crime and or pointless destruction of property, so if those are the reasons you are here tonight, please speak up so Punchy can show you the door.

And attempt to put you through it if it happens to be closed. Repeatedly.

You’re here to do a job.

Not prove a point.

Argue morality on your own dime.
"

Gods I love this bastard, might color this someday, won't be anytime soon.
If someone would like to, feel free. I can never decide on the color of his suit.