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The first thing you hear when you set foot in Kobra City is the sybil. She does not like you, and you pay the bill just to show who’s in charge, but when you leave she deigns to tell you that you don’t really mean that much. “Who cares?” being the only possible answer. There are of course countless offers of bliss, and they’ll all not turn out to your appointments, or if they show up they’ll be all about their own business and give two fscks about you. And then there are the dealers, who chat and chat but somehow it all comes back to what matters, to the bottom line. They’re pros. They’re business. Sneak and clean and straight, and it is a pleasure to deal with someone who knows their xit. All done, pack up, and gone.

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