Archived Conversation: Rook and Fish
"Archived Conversation: Rook and Fish" – email from Cyberpunk 2077. ROOK: You hear ‘bout Slam? How he went out? FISH: Mr. Rage? Trail of zeros a mile long? That psycho?
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ROOK: You hear ‘bout Slam? How he went out?
FISH: Mr. Rage? Trail of zeros a mile long? That psycho?
ROOK: Yeah, so, executioner's callin’ his name, his time’s up, and this fucker trades his last meal for one more game of ball.
FISH: Guards let ‘im?
ROOK: Whole yard came out.
ROOK: Slam’s drainin’ shots. Calls for a game. Nobody bites. Won’t dare beat a man on his last day.
FISH: Respect.
ROOK: Slam grabs some scrawny kid from the crowd. Never touched a ball in his life.
FISH: Goin' for the easy W.
ROOK: Slam cooked 'im. Whole yard’s laughin’. Kid starts throwin’ punches.
FISH: Slam musta dropped ‘im.
ROOK: Nah. Says to 'im “Basketball's too tough, so you switch to boxin'?” Hands the kid the ball. “Stick to the game.”
FISH: Did he?
ROOK: Yup. Which meant a whole lot more airballs. So, Slam gave 'im some pointers. Miss. Miss. Rim. Miss. Bank. Swish.
ROOK: Then they square up again. One on one. Kid drives but Slam's like a brick wall. Says “Life won’t give you shit. Gotta take it.”
FISH: Damn, OK.
ROOK: Kid’s gettin’ pissed, looks like he's ready to start swingin'... but no, he pulls up from fuckin’ downtown. Drains it.
FISH: No way.
ROOK: Slam can't help but smile, pats the kid on the back, says “Good game.”
ROOK: And, choom, those were his last words. Guards took him away right then.
FISH: Who was the kid?
ROOK: Doesn’t matter. Tired of talkin' anyway.
ROOK: You up for a game?
FISH: Mr. Rage? Trail of zeros a mile long? That psycho?
ROOK: Yeah, so, executioner's callin’ his name, his time’s up, and this fucker trades his last meal for one more game of ball.
FISH: Guards let ‘im?
ROOK: Whole yard came out.
ROOK: Slam’s drainin’ shots. Calls for a game. Nobody bites. Won’t dare beat a man on his last day.
FISH: Respect.
ROOK: Slam grabs some scrawny kid from the crowd. Never touched a ball in his life.
FISH: Goin' for the easy W.
ROOK: Slam cooked 'im. Whole yard’s laughin’. Kid starts throwin’ punches.
FISH: Slam musta dropped ‘im.
ROOK: Nah. Says to 'im “Basketball's too tough, so you switch to boxin'?” Hands the kid the ball. “Stick to the game.”
FISH: Did he?
ROOK: Yup. Which meant a whole lot more airballs. So, Slam gave 'im some pointers. Miss. Miss. Rim. Miss. Bank. Swish.
ROOK: Then they square up again. One on one. Kid drives but Slam's like a brick wall. Says “Life won’t give you shit. Gotta take it.”
FISH: Damn, OK.
ROOK: Kid’s gettin’ pissed, looks like he's ready to start swingin'... but no, he pulls up from fuckin’ downtown. Drains it.
FISH: No way.
ROOK: Slam can't help but smile, pats the kid on the back, says “Good game.”
ROOK: And, choom, those were his last words. Guards took him away right then.
FISH: Who was the kid?
ROOK: Doesn’t matter. Tired of talkin' anyway.
ROOK: You up for a game?
