BazzertheBobby

D’ya need the whole story, whadyoo, my biographer? Suffice it to say, as you could tell if youz seen tha trids, I’m English, east-London born n’ raised, an donchoo forget it. The nasty streets were my upbringin’, an’ I’ve earned all my scrapes and scars. If you ask me real nice, I’ll even show you my ‘here there be monsters’ tat—just don’ ask me where it is, first.
If you’ve gotta mate as needs findin’, or some legwork done, I’m your man. I’ve got more experience on the cobbled brick than your whole bleedin’ gang, chummer, was crackin’ waster’s skulls before any bloddy technomancer-matrix reboot rubbish, could suss out a junkie out of a mosh pit from a hunnerd yards, and have a knack for pickin’ out magic trubbles before they become the send-you-to-the-cooler type trubbles. Stick with me, newbie, you’llz be fine, s’long as you listen and don’t get in my way. That means, keep yer head down, let me have a butcher’s at tha situation first, I move real quiet for a trog-type, ya know. Plus I look like a stand-up bloke, dress real proper-like, tailored overcoat, not you runnin-around in body armour toting a bleedin’ Ares with gas-vents up yer arse and glow in the bleedin dark tats. I see through the dark, blend in and can pass through metal detectors an’ chem sniffers. Can you say the same, you shnat? I’ll give you a heads up when I want you ta come in blazin’…..