*pounding comes from the bunker door and the passcode is yelled through the peephole*
Fire Starter!
(ironic passphrase for the poke-bunker, no?)
*the heavy steel door creaks open and a figure stumbles across the knee-knocker,
olive drab poncho slick with rain,
his face hidden under a steel helmet*
Shit's gettin' deep boys!
*he announces, pulling off the helm and shaking the water from it*
Looks like the poke'-monsoon is almost here.
I'm glad to see you all made it hare safely.
*he pulls off the poncho, and requisitions one of the cots near the door to sit upon and rest his feet. *
Now as near as I can tell, there are still a hundred or so jokers out there in the swamps that didn't take the evacuation notice seriously.
*unlacing his jungle boots*
So be expecting a number of bone-soaked refugees to be coming our way in the next couple of days.
Remember that just because these people were too foolish to come in out of the rain doesn't mean that they're to be treated any differently.
*pulls off his boots and socks, laying them over the communal clothes-line to dry*
We've got rations enough to go around, and there'll be a canoe shipment of cheezy-poofs coming in a day or so, since somebody got the munchies and went through four days worth of the cheesy treats last night.
*mutters under his breath*
If you have questions, comments, or concerns, the catboy is your designated information liaison officer.
I know that these aren't the conditions we're all used to, but with a little comeradery, and neighborly understanding, we're all gonna come through this smellin' like a rose.
*pulls on a fresh pair of socks, and dons his boots again*
Catboy, remember that the guns are Not to be issued unless the pokezombies blockade the doors.
The refugees might have some trouble getting through their horde, but tough-titty for them.
They didn't have enough sense to seek shelter earlier.
*he pauses at the kitchen just long enough to pour himself a cup of strong coffee, ice it down, and quaff it as though it were a medicinal concoction. Then with a sigh he pulls on his rain slicker again, and slaps his helmet on his head, *
*without regard to the confused looks of the people around the bunker, he throws the door open again, striding out into the storm, and slamming the portal behind him. Then he shouts through the peephole once more*
And I'd better have a bag of fucking cheezy-poofs when I get back!