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DROP TWENTY-EIGHT
DROP TWENTY-EIGHT “Pickle, I need a lesson,” Hector said, plopping himself down on the table. He had an ouzo ready and everything. “Oh?” She turned her attention from a file she was working on, it was an organisation chart for the Pies. She hadn’t even touched the pickles beside her, she was that focused on the task. “I don’t really know anything about jugger. And now that I’m an owner, it’ll be very easy to make a fool of myself. I know when to keep my mouth shut, but it’s bound to happen sometime.” She sighed and swiped the file away from her veil. “You’re right. What do you wanna know?” She interlocked her fingers, her thicker augmented ones pushing the fleshy ones wide. “Well, everything! I know some of the basics. What else is there?” She sniffed, thinking. “The game is simple,
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