Pssssst. Hey youse.
Yeah, youse. C'mere. Check it out. I gots a deal for ya. Youse look like de kinda guy who likes a bargain. Good stuff here. Lookit dis brand new toasta oven. Makes ya toast in toity seconds flat. No? Hows 'bout dis blenda? It.... blends stuff. You could blend yoself sumpin. No?
Hot? Man, you insultin' me. I found dis stuff. You a cop? Oh, I getcha. You want da stuff but don' wanna pay for it. Sorry, bub. You gotta be a Sky Runner to hang wit us. Oh, youse hoid of us, eh? Yeah, we're da ones what get inside places da hard way. Climb on up, find da roof access, get on in and get da goods. It's tough, and if youse afraid of heights you don' last long.
Lemme tell you 'bout da last job we done...
The Alden Building is a ritzy joint. See it over dere? Fourteen floors and smooth marble all the way to da top. Dere was five of us running dat night. I'd picked da target, and I know the right places or my name ain't Cool Joe. I chose da boys goin' along, and man, you ain't never seena uglier buncha mooks anywheres. There was Little Chris (we calls him LC), Gray Larry (he's da oldest), Jamey da Butt (he's got gas, ya know), and Whimperin' Wes (aka, W2).
We waited till it was full-on dark, then grabbed our gear outa da van. JB took out the streetlights wit his slingshot, and we crossed da street witout bein' seen by nobodys.
From da street dat Alden Building looks a lot taller. Hey, I wasn't scared. I ain't scared a'nothin'! I don' mind heights, it's dat abrupt stop at the end of a fall dat I don' like. Fall from up dere, your shins are likely to come outa your shoulders, ya know?
So anyways, da Sky Runner gang likes to make it a race to da top. Foist one dere gets his choice of which place to hit, and we do a bit of window snoopin' on da way up.
I grabbed da side and boosted myself up a bit, using every handhold I could find. JB decided to show off since he's kinda reckless, and he went right past me, grinning like a stoopid ape. Larry played it safe wit me, only moving up a little bit, taking his time. W2 stayed on da ground lookin' for his ropes. He takes it real slow, ya know?
Now check dis out. Even though we's on the same side, we get a little, ya know, competitive. Every guy wants to make it to da top before da rest. So when I shimmied past the second floor and a flower pot went flying by my head, I knew that old JB wasn't kiddin' around. I'd beat him on the last score, and he was 'parently holdin' a grudge. I only slipped a little, and decided I'd make dat punk pay. Poor W2. He got just a little way up and dat pot conked him a good'un. I could hear him toynin da air blue all da way up where I was.
I risked a peek up, and saw dat Larry was makin' pretty good progress. Much as I like dat old bastige, he wasn't beatin' me. I grabbed his rope and let him pull me up wit him. Less work for me, ya know?
Meanwhiles, JB had reached da foist ledge. He got out his spare rope and made it over easy. Dem young punks tink dey gotta show off, ya know? Well, I wasn't havin' none a dat. I flung my line and got past Larry, who started cussin' me a blue streak. Down near da street, ol' Wes finally started up again. I tink he got a mega-wedgie when dat pot hit his head and he slipped on the line. Dats gotta hoit!
I made it to da foist ledge, but JB was already way up dere, makin' it look so easy. I'd had enuff a dat. I found a flower vase inna open window and chucked it at 'is head. I ain't never been a good trow, but I was right on dat night. I knocked him a good'un on his ear and down he went, grabbin' at his ropes and screamin' likes a lil' girl. He caught on, but dropped his extra equipment.
Dats when I got careless. Feelin' too confident, ya know? I'd forgotten LC, who had watched everyting goin' on and just bided his time. Dere I was, haulin' my stuff up hand over hand, wonderin' why I was goin' so slow. I look down and dere was LC, hangin' on my belt and pullin' da same stunt I'd pulled on Larry. I went to cut my line, but he saw what I was doin' and grabbed da side of da building. I scooted up a bit more, usin' a window to give myself a boost.
Big mistake. I looked in and saw some dame gettin' outa da shower. It mighta beena good show, but she saw me too. She let out dis Fay Wray shriek and pitched her drya at me. Lemme tell ya, hair dryas are solid. See dis bruise here? I fell three floors before catchin' my line. Dat drya bounced off my noggin' and fell. It picked up a bit more speed before hittin' Wes too. Down he went again. Meanwhiles, dat punk JB was over da second ledge and nearin' da top. I figured I was too far down to catch 'im, and I was wonderin' if he'd pulled extra ropes outa thin air. I trew caution to da wind and made like dat guy Spida-man. Anudda open window, and I grabbed a plate outa a sink fulla dishes. I trew it like a frisbee, but dere wasn't enuff ooomph behind it (I was trowin' lefty, and I ain't no lefty), so he only got winged and slipped a lil.'
Nex ting ya know, he was up over da las' ledge and dancin' like da fool he is. I'd been outsmarted and outclimbed by a doofus. Oh well, I ain't da spring chicken I used ta be. I looked down afta I got up dere next to him, and saw that Larry would be next up. LC wasn't too far behind, but ol' Wes was sittin' on da coib rubbin' his head. He never made it over dat foist ledge.
So for dat night at leas', JB was top dawg. We got in and got da goods outa a few empty joints before makin' da split.
Yeah, it'sa tuff job, but youse gotta pay da ConEd guys, ya know? Now, how's 'bout dis here clock radio? Yeah, dat's it, find your wallet. Umm... dat looks like a badge. Hey now, off'cer, I jus' made dat stuff up. Add some spice to a sale, ya know? Dis stuff was already here when I walked by. Finders keepers, ya know. Hey, dat's okay, I don' need no bracelets.
Wow, I like your session report MUCH better than I like the game Thanks for posting!