Part 54: Ep. 39: Picking On Someone More Metallic Than Us
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When last we left our intrepid special agent, he was climbing up into the warehouse's walkway system in a mild snit. Sam makes his way through the balance beams to the roof door.
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Sam pops out onto the fire escape and... Grit? Sam is on his way to find out just what Grit is doing up here when
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Woo!
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So Grit might be the one who's causing the weird vibrations, by... chewing on metal cables. Well, he is the grizzled badass of our lupine trio. Sam pulls out his notebook.
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Wonder what he wants? Let's ask him!
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And on the way to the junkyard maybe we can collar Brandi. Since Esma's in the club, Brandi might be willing to speak frankly with us--
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--or maybe she's not here either. Huh. Wonder where she went? Thoughtful now, Sam heads into the junkyard in search of Gabby. He finds Barney first. Well, heck, Barney might know.
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Barney slumps and sighs.
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He did! In MySims Kingdom.
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... welp. Surely that won't come to anything. Sam takes his leave of Barney and catches up with Gabby.
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and how did he get all the way up there goddamn I mean he had to go up a ladder and everything
Gabby sighs heavily.
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I think we know where all the shiny things are in the industrial district!
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Sam runs back up to Dr. F's lab and catches Alexa. What, you thought we were going to ask Dr. F for help? We would all die in a nuclear-mayonnaise accident.
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Please note that in the fifteen seconds that have elapsed since we distracted Alexa from her watchdog job, Dr. F has managed to set himself on fire.
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Can't argue with that! Alexa hustles off to extinguish Dr. F and Sam makes a few quick notes.
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Just in case it's not Grit that's making Candy's robot ears go haywire. Anyway, Dr. F is no longer on fire, so Sam feels free to consult him.
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Sure, it's not like the robot is capable of pulling all of Sam's limbs off or anything. Sam climbs up to the walkway where TOBOR is poking listlessly at a computer.
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oh crap limb removal imminent
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Oh, Sam. Oh, Sam, no.
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Oh, yes. Out comes the Techno-Tool and...
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We are the worst person.
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We might as well be polite about our transgressive act.
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Sandwiches and stolen robot parts in hand, Sam hastily departs this vale of comma-shaped tears.
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