Snowman cometh, then eats curb!

So I hit up the Snowman in the deep dark.  We wandered over to the brickyard on the edge of Ward D and the Pyth by the chem plant, homeless reclamation center and where the gov is slaming down the CF19 super-train rail.  Not the safest strip in New Atomic but with a bunch of punks and mods heading to the same party we were, I figured the only DHAG's around would be friendlys. Maybe not, lick-your-hand "let me fetch you a drink" kinda mugs but not the type to bear teeth without a reason either. 

Well you can probly see where this is trickling.  We hadn't been at the rock-spot for more than five minutes when trouble bubbled to the surface.  I hadn't even drained my first warm brew from the row of dented silver pumpers when I see the Snowmans stupid fat-white-jacket moving far faster than the punk would ever desire to move.  Of course, slipping through the crowd like greased eels are two heavy DHAG's.

By the time I made the door the deed was done.  Best I can tell Snowman had made a comment or three that are best left unsaid in mixed company.  Then to put a capper on 'em he pulled out a friggin' dog whistle and gave it a go.  The DHAG's had enough of it and let a good whoopin follow. I dragged Snowman up of the curb and tossed him into a johnny and asked the driver to hit the closest Doc Shop.

Snowman should be rain in a couple days, and the new teeth might even help with the ladies.

Disco made me do it.

Walking to the Pearly Gates I saw a cat stretched out across the curb, half in half out of some cardboard. My first thought was, "If this was 2 clicks up, near the Commerce Bang, the blackies would have him rounded and pounded before his head hit the curb. No sleep for this saucer." That's why I like the Pyth and Ward D. Nobody cares what you do, just so long as you stay out of their way.

Gotta bounce and meet the Snowman.