Intro to Duckdown
Orks don't live near as long as the rest of you, so we live harder. We dance harder, we fight harder, we sleep harder, we dream harder, we love harder. It's that last one that's the most powerful, man. Love, duuuuuude, love. Love's how the ugliest smeltery worker you ever seen ended up pairing with the raging fire of a woman that is my mother. She's 46 now, older than most of us get, and the proud mother of 11 daughters and 6 sons. I still got three brothers out there somewhere. They're all grown and moved on, i think one of em joined the army or went to jail or something. I'm not really sure. Sisters, i got two left out there. As rough as life is for everyone, it's even rougher for us, and rougher still for our women. I can't even imagine what trolls have to go through. damn. can't even imagine... Anyway, my sisters Agatha and Theresa still live in town. I'm pretty sure neither of them are officially members of a gang, but they hang out with those guys ALOT. Agatha's 13 years old. She's an adult. I don't really give a shit what SHE does, but Theresa is still just a kid. She should at least TRY to go to school. At least till she hated it so much, she started acting out and getting into fights to get out of it. That's what i did. That's what you're supposed to do. That's like, what school is for, right man?
I used to be an angry little trog, y'know?
I was really into my hands as a kid. I wanted to climb with em, and build stuff with em, and beat people up with em, and i got pretty good at doin all that stuff. But then, there was that one day. My mother was living with my late sister Monica's father at the time. I think his name was Terrance or Jessica or something. Probably not Jessica. Anyways, he played hardcore beebop jazz saxophone and me and him really got along well, unlike most of my mothers partners. He was a crazy guy, always tellin jokes, bouncin around, fidgeting with his fingers, come to think of it, that trog was probably a cokehead. Fraaaaaag. I always wondered why mom threw him out while she was pregnant. Ok, anyways, he comes home from a gig one night, late as shit, and he brings with him, into our living room, this nice lookin drumset. It was the shiniest thing I'd seen in my entire life, and long after my siblings had finished fighting over it and lost interest, i just kept banging on that thing for years. Nowadays, I'm just the best drummer in the plex. It aint no big deal, chummer.
I used to rock with El Chupacabracadabra. I don't know what bullshit the label made em change the name to. I don't listen to that pop drek, but you've probably heard em. I was the only ork in the group, and no one really understood the struggle but me, so once i started writing songs for em, we stared blowin up. Eventually, the type of guy i am got to be too much of a liability for em. See, in the music biz, you gotta be able to lie to people's faces and pretend to be stupid. That's how you get that nuyen. You make what the teeny-boppers wanna hear. Something to keep the little corp kids from realizing THEY are what's wrong with the world. Either that or tell the ghetto kids that they matter and not to sell drugs. I wouldnt do it. When i write a song, it's the chip truth. So, they got a record contract and replaced me with some dandelion eater. Changed the name and fired our dwarf manager, too. Name was T-Ball. Solid guy. Kindof a dork, but he was always straight with us. Dude always had our backs and they did him like that? Did me like that? Buncha squishes, with their frakkin squish bullshit.
I kinda lost my temper. I don't like to dwell on the old stupid days, but lets just say, some property was damaged, some charges were pressed, and i got arrested. Good thing T-Ball still liked me. He didn't have the connections to get the charges dropped, but he got em lessened and my time reduced. I did 8 months for destruction of private property and criminal mischief. I was lucky. They coulda got me for grand theft auto and attempted murder if they really wanted to be dicks about it. I'da probably died in there if they'da hit me with that. Prison turned out to not be so bad. It mellowed me out a lot. And not just cause i started smoking a LOT more zen. I also did a lot of soul searching and a lot of writing. If i could sing, I'd have an entire album ready to record.
When i got out, T-Ball tried to get me legal work, but between my new criminal SIN, my race, and the new pastime i'd picked up in jail, that never panned out. It dawned on me about five months after i got out that i was gonna have to make money on my own. I'd met a few people who did a few things playing with 'chupa around town for all that time. Seems it's time to make some calls...
