The Deliverator
Oct 20th, 2002, 09:49:13 PM
The Deliverator is a member of an elite order, a sacred subcategory. He's got esprit up to here. Now he prepares for the fifth mission of the night. His uniform is the blue and gold of his order, Blasterfire Pizza Inc. When they gave the Deliverator his job, they also gave him a blaster. The Deliverator never deals in cash, but someone may decide they want his speeder bike, or his cargo. The blaster is smaller than standard, and fires teensy stinging darts like the remote droids Jedi practice with, but far more deadly, and when you finish with it you plug it into the bike's power supply because it operates on electricity. The Deliverator has never used the gun in rage or in fright. He used it once on ground level Coruscant, when some Rodian thugs decided they wanted a free delivery. Thought they'd impress the Deliverator with a huge pipe. The Deliverator pulled the gun and fired, shards of metal blasting in a shower from the stick. Punk wound up with a stump of metal in his hands, a dumb look on his face. Got nothin' but trouble from the Deliverator. Not like he used the gun much anyhow. He'd rather use the Force to settle his differences. The Rodians on ground level weren't afraid of the blaster, so he was forced to use it. But the Force needed no demonstrating. His speeder bike is loaded with more potential energy than a Death Star's main cannon, faster than any speeder made. Why is the Deliverator so equipped? Because people rely on him. He's a roll model. This is Coruscant, people do what they feel like, you got a problem with that? Because they have blasters and vibroblades and there's hundreds of them and no one can stop them. And once they're importing their food and weaponry and starfighters and cruisers and lives from other planets, there's only a few things Coruscant does better than anyone else:
goverment
Jedi
code-slicing
high-speed pizza delivery
The Deliverator used be a code-slicer. Still was sometimes, but if life was a happy little academy run by well-meaning education Ph.Ds, the Deliverator's report card would say: "Alex is so smart and creative but should reall work on his social skills." So now he has this job. No genius or creativity involved, but no socializiation either. All there is one principle: The Deliverator stands tall, your pizza in 30 minutes or you can take it for free, shoot the man, steal his bike, file a class-action suit. The Deliverator has never delivered a pie in more than 20 minutes. The customers would argue over times, years and years of existence were lost to some random being waving an appendage at the chrono over the stove, I swear, can't you tell time? Not anymore though. Pizza delivery is a major industry. People went to universities for years just to learn it. Beings walked in without the capability even to form coherent words and left knowing more about pizza than Tuskens know about sand. They studied the argument problem, monitored the brainwaves and levels of stress and anything in the offending customers. The final decision on this was it was the nature of lifeforms and couldn't be helped, so a fast technological solution was found. The cardboard of the pizza box was replaced with plastic, an LED interface counting the time from the moment the order is placed. The box interfaces with the Deliverator's speeder bike, gives him the fastest route and time until delivery on a heads up display. Should the Deliverator fail, the disastrous news is beamed straight to the headquarters, and the founder of the whole frikkin business is called out to apologize, give the poor customer a ton of free stuff and a high level apartment, in exchange for his soul and half his freedoms. As for the Deliverator that failed? No one knows what happens to them. The prospect of a late delivery is enough to send chills down the Deliverator's spine. But y'know, he wouldn't have it any other way. It's like being a kamikaze pilot, your mind is clear, focused. The Deliverator is proud to drive the bike, proud to walk up to the doors of these people, LED flashing a proud 10: 58 or 14: 18 or even a 20:05. The Deliverator has been at this job for 2 months, his longest job yet. He's not about to screw it up. He screams out of his headquarters, diving towards the lanes of traffic below him, checking the chrono on the pizza.. He's got 25 minutes to make this one. Plenty of time. He checks the address. It's over 120 kilometers away. He spits a curse, that's well outside his zone. His first thought is to go back and kill the man who accepted this order, but he knows better than that. The point now is to deliver the pizza on time. He's a Deliverator, this is a simple task. He jumps out of the traffic and hammers the accelerator, a blue and gold streak weaving through oncoming traffic and cross traffic, defying driving laws like its nobody's business. He will deliver on time..
goverment
Jedi
code-slicing
high-speed pizza delivery
The Deliverator used be a code-slicer. Still was sometimes, but if life was a happy little academy run by well-meaning education Ph.Ds, the Deliverator's report card would say: "Alex is so smart and creative but should reall work on his social skills." So now he has this job. No genius or creativity involved, but no socializiation either. All there is one principle: The Deliverator stands tall, your pizza in 30 minutes or you can take it for free, shoot the man, steal his bike, file a class-action suit. The Deliverator has never delivered a pie in more than 20 minutes. The customers would argue over times, years and years of existence were lost to some random being waving an appendage at the chrono over the stove, I swear, can't you tell time? Not anymore though. Pizza delivery is a major industry. People went to universities for years just to learn it. Beings walked in without the capability even to form coherent words and left knowing more about pizza than Tuskens know about sand. They studied the argument problem, monitored the brainwaves and levels of stress and anything in the offending customers. The final decision on this was it was the nature of lifeforms and couldn't be helped, so a fast technological solution was found. The cardboard of the pizza box was replaced with plastic, an LED interface counting the time from the moment the order is placed. The box interfaces with the Deliverator's speeder bike, gives him the fastest route and time until delivery on a heads up display. Should the Deliverator fail, the disastrous news is beamed straight to the headquarters, and the founder of the whole frikkin business is called out to apologize, give the poor customer a ton of free stuff and a high level apartment, in exchange for his soul and half his freedoms. As for the Deliverator that failed? No one knows what happens to them. The prospect of a late delivery is enough to send chills down the Deliverator's spine. But y'know, he wouldn't have it any other way. It's like being a kamikaze pilot, your mind is clear, focused. The Deliverator is proud to drive the bike, proud to walk up to the doors of these people, LED flashing a proud 10: 58 or 14: 18 or even a 20:05. The Deliverator has been at this job for 2 months, his longest job yet. He's not about to screw it up. He screams out of his headquarters, diving towards the lanes of traffic below him, checking the chrono on the pizza.. He's got 25 minutes to make this one. Plenty of time. He checks the address. It's over 120 kilometers away. He spits a curse, that's well outside his zone. His first thought is to go back and kill the man who accepted this order, but he knows better than that. The point now is to deliver the pizza on time. He's a Deliverator, this is a simple task. He jumps out of the traffic and hammers the accelerator, a blue and gold streak weaving through oncoming traffic and cross traffic, defying driving laws like its nobody's business. He will deliver on time..