OrcishBarbarian
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 28, 2006
- Posts
- 706
(NOTE: I tried this about a month ago, and it fizzled. I think I just drew a crop of people who happened to be one-post wonders. So I'm going to float it again because I think it's a good idea)
Of all the places for a person to have his last civilized meal and steaming cup of coffee, the Desert Special Truckers Cafe surely had to be near the bottom of the list. Situated near the I-15 Interstate linking Southern California with Las Vegas, the Cafe had been built during the booming post-war era of the 50's, had achieved it highest point around 1970, and steadily troughed out ever since.
The Cafe had an inn attached to it...really a one and a half star motel for truckers and everyone else traveling the Mojave. The Inn and Cafe attracted all sorts of people...many of them first-timers, because for almost anyone except rough-cut truckers and low level gang members, there usually wasn't a second time. In fact the only thing keeping the Inn and Cafe afloat were the long-haul truckers and the black and Mexican gangs who would have quiet meetings at the Inn to coordinate activities between Southern California and Las Vegas.
For truckers, the place was reasonably safe. The gang bosses sent out strict orders that trucks--many of whom in fact hauled contraband loads for the gangs themselves--were off-limits. As far as minivans and station wagons with families and women...that was another story. The Inn and its environs averaged about three rapes a week. Most of these went unreported, as the women--most of them young--who were victimized were too scared or embarrassed to report the crime. Local women steered clear of the place...except to work as waitresses, enduring the constant leering and the more than occasional grope...and occasionally more.
Now it is Thursday morning...the usual crowd is in the restaurant, having breakfast...the truckers, the gangbangers, several families heading to Vegas or Disneyland, some independent folk on the road. Most of them will never reach their destinations...as the worst possible news is on its way. In ten minutes, the morning talk shows will be interrupted with news of the destruction of London, Manchester, Berlin, New York, Chicago and Paris by Muslim fanatics...and shortly thereafter America's response will be headed fast and furious over the North Pole.
But for now, settle into a seat with cheap, well-worn plastic upholstery, and enjoy your last hot meal in this Truck Stop at the End of the World...
This is going to be a role-playing game (in other words, I control events in the outside world, and some of what goes on at the Inn itself). Your characters can be from any occupation...gang members, families travelling, independent insurance agents, truck drivers, even employees of the Inn. I'm going to hold off on the fireworks for a time to give players a chance to meet up and establish their characters...let some interactions take place. Then comes the news...and of course things go from there.
Of all the places for a person to have his last civilized meal and steaming cup of coffee, the Desert Special Truckers Cafe surely had to be near the bottom of the list. Situated near the I-15 Interstate linking Southern California with Las Vegas, the Cafe had been built during the booming post-war era of the 50's, had achieved it highest point around 1970, and steadily troughed out ever since.
The Cafe had an inn attached to it...really a one and a half star motel for truckers and everyone else traveling the Mojave. The Inn and Cafe attracted all sorts of people...many of them first-timers, because for almost anyone except rough-cut truckers and low level gang members, there usually wasn't a second time. In fact the only thing keeping the Inn and Cafe afloat were the long-haul truckers and the black and Mexican gangs who would have quiet meetings at the Inn to coordinate activities between Southern California and Las Vegas.
For truckers, the place was reasonably safe. The gang bosses sent out strict orders that trucks--many of whom in fact hauled contraband loads for the gangs themselves--were off-limits. As far as minivans and station wagons with families and women...that was another story. The Inn and its environs averaged about three rapes a week. Most of these went unreported, as the women--most of them young--who were victimized were too scared or embarrassed to report the crime. Local women steered clear of the place...except to work as waitresses, enduring the constant leering and the more than occasional grope...and occasionally more.
Now it is Thursday morning...the usual crowd is in the restaurant, having breakfast...the truckers, the gangbangers, several families heading to Vegas or Disneyland, some independent folk on the road. Most of them will never reach their destinations...as the worst possible news is on its way. In ten minutes, the morning talk shows will be interrupted with news of the destruction of London, Manchester, Berlin, New York, Chicago and Paris by Muslim fanatics...and shortly thereafter America's response will be headed fast and furious over the North Pole.
But for now, settle into a seat with cheap, well-worn plastic upholstery, and enjoy your last hot meal in this Truck Stop at the End of the World...
This is going to be a role-playing game (in other words, I control events in the outside world, and some of what goes on at the Inn itself). Your characters can be from any occupation...gang members, families travelling, independent insurance agents, truck drivers, even employees of the Inn. I'm going to hold off on the fireworks for a time to give players a chance to meet up and establish their characters...let some interactions take place. Then comes the news...and of course things go from there.
)
*Bangs head on keyboard* Ouch! That hurt... 
