<strong>Ricky Mulch: Time to act<br/>In the Town Hall Foyer</strong><br/><br/>The first thing Ricky wanted to do was get into that bunker, where there was food, ammunition, communication, and other survivors.  That was top priority, the numero uno.  And they weren't going to get anywhere closer to that goal by banging their heads against that keypad.  So when the possibility of searching the Town Hall came up, Ricky immediately stepped forward.<br/><br/>"I got about ten or so bullets," Ricky said, holding up his pistol, the extended mag making it look like a large black L.  He eyes Red carefully.  He didn't know anything about diabetes really.  Just that it makes people tired when they don't eat, or something like that.  Also, glucose.  Whatever the hell that was.<br/><br/>"And if we're going to be getting into that bunker," he continued, holstering the pistol.  "We need to do something besides sit here thinking of random numbers.  I say we check the upstairs f--"<br/><br/>Ricky cut himself off, suddenly thinking that Red in his diabetic state may not be able to handle the stairs.  He looked questioningly at the chef.<br/><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)[/spoiler]