Griff Loran
The Last True Corellian
Mord was in a dingy, cheap apartment. Having minimal computer expertise, he slowly and carefully clacked away at the keys on the complimentary Holonet terminal.
He was typing out an ad that read something like this,
In Need Of Work. Brilliant scientist in need of employment. Can make things that go "Pew Pew" and "BOOM!". If interested, please contact me at my H-mail, pewpewlazer@spacemail.com
Brilliant! thought Mord. I'm certain to gain employment now! Once I gain employment, I will create wonders! Mord climbed off the human sized chair and the tower of old phone books. He briskly walked over the table which held his latest creation, the Bangarang. He started to finish up with the final touches. Soon, this weapon would help launch a new career...hopefully.
He was typing out an ad that read something like this,
In Need Of Work. Brilliant scientist in need of employment. Can make things that go "Pew Pew" and "BOOM!". If interested, please contact me at my H-mail, pewpewlazer@spacemail.com
Brilliant! thought Mord. I'm certain to gain employment now! Once I gain employment, I will create wonders! Mord climbed off the human sized chair and the tower of old phone books. He briskly walked over the table which held his latest creation, the Bangarang. He started to finish up with the final touches. Soon, this weapon would help launch a new career...hopefully.