Gateway Comm System: OPEN
To: All Personnel
From: Cap'n Jubal
Subject: Lane Hackers 's scourge-o-space in California
Afer'noon m' friends
I's a takin' a load 'f Gold t' Fort Bush don't you know. I had th' dern ship 'n auto pilot when th' dadblame warning alarm start blaring. I look 'p through th' view screen an' b'fer you knows it, two gits start shootin' at m' ship. When I finally g't th' ship stopped, I scan-em right quick an' they's th'm thievn Lane Hackers.
Well sir, ther' names wus Gustav.Graves an' Kevin Mitnick. A coupla good fer nuthin criminals had m' strung up 'n their web-o-death. My dag-blame pants w's down an' they had m' bum hung o'r the fire don't you know. Poor Gimpy wus so scared h' pissed 'n th' floor of m' ship. It start' smellin' right quick too.
I hain't gettin' away 'til I pays em 4 million. That pretty m'ch bled m' dry. But I pays 'm anyway. An 'f course, no la' enforcement 's com'n to hep me one dadblame bit. Th'm police 'n Liberty 's good fer nuthin. Jus sitt'n 'n Manhattan an' jammerin' like a bunch o girls.
Well sir, I's finally m'ke 't t' Fort Bush an' hav' t' stop. The ship 's smellin' wurs th'n a skunk 'n heat an' I's got t' clean 'er out. A'fer, I's stoppin' 'n Manhattan fer Neon 'n a bag o dogfood for Gimpy. Jis 'bout only place they's sellin' 't anymore don't you know.
