Shopping for Mauraderangs and Magnesium Flares

I’m ready to place another order with My Guy, my anonymous weapons and gadget maker(s). As per usual, secrecy is the order of the day with My Guy: I send a postcard to a P.O. Box, and then receive an encrypted email which I decode with My Guy’s customer software. The decoded email provides me with the URL for a one-time-only chatroom where I log in and place my order.

I call him My Guy, but really I have no idea what his/her gender may be, or whether it’s a big group of Monster Garage type guys or what. “He” works by referral only, and supplies superheroes such as myself with customized armor, weapons, and gear. I know that he makes stuff for Wombat (who referred me to him), Kestrel, Night Hunter (dick), Dark Archer, and Major Domo, and probably lots more. I have a sneaking suspicion that My Guy might also provide gear to supervillains, but I can’t be sure.

Anyway, I log in and place my order. Here’s an excerpt of our chat:

X9: How many Marauderangs?

VM: Do I get a discount if I buy in bulk?

X9: No.

VM: OK. Four dozen.

X9: Do you need any shurikens?

VM: I actually have never used the shuriken gun. Seems too lethal, throws off my balance.

X9: Would you like to return it? Have client in Far East who could use it.

VM: Would I get store credit or something?

X9: Yes. Will send UPS Call Tag label to retrieve it this week. What else?

VM: Two dozen sepia bombs, four KOMA probes, 6 magnesium flares.

X9: Out of mag flares; we have new Solar Flare incendiary bombs instead.

VM: That sounds cool, give me a dozen. Anything else new?

X9: We have pocket sized radio jammers, micro-GPS tracking devices, and water-breathing pills.

VM: Water-breathing pills? No shit?

X9: Lemurian technology, brand new. Each pill lasts 2 hours.

VM: I’ll take two, and a radio jammer.

Wow, water-breathing pills? That sounds awesome. Who knows when that will come in handy? I can put them in the pouch on my utility belt where I keep my cobra anti-venin. Because really, there aren’t any cobras in the Pacific Northwest. It just seemed like the thing to get at the time…