<strong>Ricky Mulch: Too old for this sh--<br/>Inside the Town Hall</strong><br/><br/>Ricky backpedalled down the hallway, keeping his eyes on the zombies that had made it through the door.  Red blew past him, bashing in two undead skulls no problem.  Well OK then.  He picked off the other two zombies no problem, wincing at the gunshots in the enclosed space.  But at least they were safe now.  Four zombies lay on the ground, their brains scattered around them.  Ugly and smelly, sure, but no longer dangerous.<br/><br/>A wave of exhaustion knocked him against the wall near the bunker door.  Breathing heavily, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor.  Being 40 was killing him, too much danger and adrenaline too fast.  Ricky couldn't handle it as well as he used to.<br/><br/>He ejected his clip and began counting bullets.  "Everyone alright in here?" Ricky called out, eyes focused on the magazine.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Inventory and Character Status</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Inventory:</strong><br/><span class="bbc_u">POCKETS</span><br/>1.) Handgun  (with belt-clip holster) (8/13 bullets)<br/>2.) Pocket sized note pad (front pocket)<br/>3.) Black Pen (front pocket)<br/>4.) Deck of Cards (includes Jokers) (back pocket)<br/>5.) Spent Clip (0/9 bullets) (back pocket)<br/><br/><strong>Current HP/SP Status:</strong><br/>Body Points - 156/166<br/>Stamina Points - 122/160<br/>Status - Well Rested (96-128 SP)</div></div>