>>>INCOMING TRANSMISSION<<<
Sender: Tex.Mex
Recipient: The Junker Congress
Location: Beaumont Base, Texas
Signal strength: Kinda iffy...
Encryption: *SMACK* ok, it's workin' again
Greetings and salutations Congressmen.
My name is Tex.Mex, or Tex, to my friends. Me and my boys have been in the Premium scrap trade around Texas, where I was born, fer enough time to build usselves some of the finest ships you have laid your eyes upon. We have made money, we have made contacts with people from all sides of the fence and all sides of the universe, we have had fun, we have made maps of all the legal and shadowy routes around, and, not sure if I mentioned it already, but last and not least, we have had fun.
Now we been trailin' the skies for quite a while, all happy and drinkin' and smokin' and laughin', when I noticed the laughin' gettin' less, and the drinkin' and smokin' gettin' more. As fun as drinkin' and smokin' is, you need to do them for the right reasons, and the boys was startin' to do it fer all the wrong reasons. We were spendin' so much time in exotic places like Malta, the boys were startin' to lose their culture. That got me thinkin and drinkin' for the wrong reasons as well. Many a times I'd be cruisin' from Pequena Negra to some or the other shadowy destination, when I pass one of ya'll congressmen. I'd be half in a drunkin' stupor from the worries fer my crew, and just slur out a "Howdy". Many of them times the congressmen hail my beaten up ol' Sally back with warmth and friendliness. Sometimes givin' advice on where to stick the next parts that I salvage onto Sally, sometimes just havin' a quick chat about dreams and ideals, but always the voice on the other side brings back memories of happier times with me and my boys. Now my boys are my family. I care great deals about them. I would do anything to keep them happy. An' that there is where ya'll come in. I see what you got. I like what you got goin'. I want some of that fer me and my crew.
I want my boys to be spendin' time with our own people again. To relearn the culture, and see what we offer them that no drug-induced illusions of greener grass can ever offer them. I would like them to get up in the mornin' with the same ideal of usin' the scrap we find to build a better world, instead of gettin' up just to sneak into the cargo hold for some more cardamine and rum.
I hereby implore on ya'lls kindness and southern hospitality to take us in before my boys totally falls off the wagon. They're good people, they just need some spit and polish to make them shine again. In exchange for that I offer you the services of a Salvager, Wrecker and Recycler, built by our own hands from scratch, and held together by our own blood and sweat. If we're not loadin', offloadin', or fixin' up our ship, we're out flyin', minin' and tradin'. Please help us out, before I have a mutiny on my hands and the boys kill me to get one last hit of cardamine in the hold.
Yours sincerely,
Tex.Mex
P.S. If anyone finds an eye lodged in somewhere on the Wrecker, please give it back to Bobby. Been lookin' fer it fer ages!
Salvager Wrecker Pilgrim Liner Waran Bustard Pirate Transport
