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Who: PCs surviving the Founder's Field Massacre
When: After the Founder's Day celebration came to an abrupt end
Where: Founder's Hall
"... where -is- the mayor?" Chester inquired, looking around with a slight air of concern. Between what had just happened and what Mr. Marchese had just told him and the realization that their town's state of civil defense readiness was definitely not equipped to handle this, Chester felt that something had to be done, and although it pained him to admit it, perhaps Katie had been right about wanting to start preparations. Now there were neighbors with trunks full of shotguns and Communists charging out of the woodwork and stories of government cleanups and Soviet shootings, and apparently more than one person was willing to vouch for what had originally sounded like a crazy excuse to take a holiday.
Well, sir, Chester Wilson wasn't about to stand for it. He spotted the Mayor through one of Founder Hall's windows, and strode for the building. If the neighborhood was going to hell and the Communists were on the doorstep, by God, he was going to do something.
He just wasn't entirely sure what, really.
For now, though, that something was 'speak to the Mayor.'
"Mayor Tuttleford! Mayor Tuttleford -- we've cleared out those damn Commie freaks," he called as he headed in. "What are we going to do to protect the town?"
When: After the Founder's Day celebration came to an abrupt end
Where: Founder's Hall
"... where -is- the mayor?" Chester inquired, looking around with a slight air of concern. Between what had just happened and what Mr. Marchese had just told him and the realization that their town's state of civil defense readiness was definitely not equipped to handle this, Chester felt that something had to be done, and although it pained him to admit it, perhaps Katie had been right about wanting to start preparations. Now there were neighbors with trunks full of shotguns and Communists charging out of the woodwork and stories of government cleanups and Soviet shootings, and apparently more than one person was willing to vouch for what had originally sounded like a crazy excuse to take a holiday.
Well, sir, Chester Wilson wasn't about to stand for it. He spotted the Mayor through one of Founder Hall's windows, and strode for the building. If the neighborhood was going to hell and the Communists were on the doorstep, by God, he was going to do something.
He just wasn't entirely sure what, really.
For now, though, that something was 'speak to the Mayor.'
"Mayor Tuttleford! Mayor Tuttleford -- we've cleared out those damn Commie freaks," he called as he headed in. "What are we going to do to protect the town?"
