Book One
A younger Devi Ezell
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Book Two
Heaven and Hell are on Earth, people. I mean, my heaven and hell - not yours. Fuck, I don't know you. Whatever. What I'm talking about is Warren Ray's Warehouse. Mmm-mmm-mmm! The equipment, man! The tools! The resources, the knowledge! Do you have any idea what sorta shit we made?!
No, no you don't. Your mind - it'd just BA-BOOM POOF.
Two Mechanical Intuitives. One building. One bottomless bank account funded by Uncle Sam or… Whoever… The Institute? I dunno, man, I lost track and more importantly, I didn't give a flying fuck!
Working for Looney Tune, er Warren, though That was a trip. But, as it turns out, he was a good anti-drug PSA, if you know what I mean - "Don't over use this powah!"
But, then shit got real real, real fast. End of '11 some time, I dunno, times a funny thing these days, man. Someone blew up the organization that was our piggy bank and chaos ensued. I mean, Looney Tune's level of chaos was one thing, but I could always go back to the garage, toke up, problem solved. This shit was everywhere…
Normally I woulda just picked up the gang and hit the road to find somewhere to hunker down - self preservation and all that. You know Redbird? That dude has a hero complex that is friggin' contagious. We picked up and followed him west. Dude got a bunker near Kansas City! But, I'm not for sitting still and all that, you know. There wasn't much to do in the way of runnin' drugs, so we just had weapons and a lot of free time. Toots' bunker made a good R&R space - I'd stop in now and again to resupply, get the new, bandage up. But mostly we, a few of the loyal Ravens and I, were out on the road doing what we could. We weren't super organized or nothin', mind, just travelling backroads and helping the other friggin' Evos out in the boonies, refugees, defending the weak and all that sheeet. Little victories, I heard someone say once - "Don't forget the little victories…"
So, that's how I spent my time. Helping where it was needed, hurtin' where it needed. Idle hands are the devil's playthang, so when we had downtime I was tinkering. I'd already learned a lot from Warren's Warehouse, but now I was my own boss even mech-shit. I made myself a promise, though - only turn that shit on when I'm "workin'", you know? I mean, yeah, it's easier said than done. I still find shit disassembled or reassembled all wacky when I wake up sometimes, but that's only if I haven't had myself a constructive outlet for a few days. It's like any drug, man - moderation is the key!
Aaannnnd just as things started to get monotonous, the daily grind of being good and fixing shit, I looped back around to The Ray Bunker. I think 'bout half the things were packed that day and that's just the sorta shake my life needed. He had news, oh sweet-sweet news, for these pierced ears. He was going home and I was invited. Well ain't that sweet!? Seems Toots has changed a lot. I probably should stuck closer to the hunk - too much of a chip on the shoulder or big shoes he thinks he needs to fill. I dunno. He's changed and I worry. I mean… hold on. Not like worry. Just… Fuck. Anyway, I had to tag a long, keep an eye on im. Besides, he needed some help dealing with Looney Tune's leftover warehouse and some new projects. How can I say no to those eyes… er… sunglasses? So, NYC - Mama's Hoooooome!