That’s the problem with all you goddamned scavengers and cannibals. By the time I find anything, you’ve already picked it clean of everything worthwhile. I bet you’ve got a stash two feet deep in that hovel of yours.” “Not of anything I need,” I said. “No, but a stash two feet deep of out-of-circulation parts. Just like hundreds of others like you in this part of the world alone. What does it feel like knowing that your life depends on something probably lying on a cold concrete floor in someone else’s hovel? What’s it like knowing how many other poor bastards went out the same way while you
...more
Where's all the toilet paper you bastards?
