Lordy almighty, these crates were a lot easier to hoist in zero gravity.
Harry gripped the edges of one of the boxes, lifted with his lower back and shoulders, and slid it into place atop its brothers. His back gave out a right ridiculous twinge of protest which he answered with a flurry of language unbefitting a man of legitimate business. Magda shouted something smart at him and he rolled his eyes.
"Git' all this up and out of the bug, Benny'll git her up and workin' an' we can drop all this off at Joes."
It really didn't matter who he shouted that in front of. These docks weren't exactly known for their reputability. 'Sides, every other sidewindin' jackass this side of the third moon was busy running his own gigs.
Harry tromped back into the bay to get the second dolly and the personal affects boxes. Less worthwhile than the medical gear, but thrice as satisfying to rip off. Damn if that pool table didn't look nice in the corner.
Box of lamps, box of classic leatherbound books, box of...what in the sam hell?
"Well lookie here..." Harry proclaimed quietly and plucked a lacy black undergarment out from the space between the boxes. If that wasn't just a delicious looking piece of fabric, well he'd be hog tied. Withough pausing to think, Harry dropped the tidbit in his pocket and continued about his tasks.
"Ladies we don't want to be late, none, an' make a bad impression," Harry called into the ship.
Damn it Feels Good To Be a Gangsta'.
A Real Gansta Type Player Plays His Cards Right.
- Respectable Joes. [Wobbletime, other side of the planet.]