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Zaire came into the saloon holding a bundle in his arms.

"Hey, Pierre, I need a juice port."

"How many this time?"

"Eight"

"..Eight?!"

"Fine. Six. Can ya at least give me that?"

The bartender sighed. "I got my good girls due to clock in, in an hour, watching your desert bugs fuck the terminal makes them squeamish so blanch-like, I don't know..."

"It ain't critters I found in the weeds this time, give me six, I'll owe you. Call up Curtis. I know he's been hounding you. What is the debt to the dollar you're behind on rent this week, Pierre?"

"Forty Ducats"

"Oh, past dollars into ducats are ya?"

"Six decimals from doubloons." Pierre eyed the bundle in the Rancher's arms. "Just six?"

"It'd be a blessing."

"Alright. Don't' go crumbling my crust and leave me here to mold like last time, Turner."

Pierre Dupri made his way over to the recharge side of the bar, dusting the outlet panel on the counter with his feather duster arm, and then watched as Zaire unwrapped the bundle and revealed a very sophisticated looking robotic doll. She was covered in rags, with cords dangling from her body like tentacles. Zaire quickly found six of the tentacles and plugged them into the outlets.

"Ohhh, yess, that's the stuff." She moaned in a very seductive voice as her doll body jerked and spasmed, feeling the energy refuel her cells.

Zaire held her steady on the stool next to him.

"IS that ---"

"Found her in the weeds, drained my pistol to keep her from going dark. Carried her in sleep mode all the way here. Curtis likes this kind of merchandise doesn't he? Last I checked he was still a collector of fine clientele of her variety."

Pierre felt his peach filling start to drip and sweat down his 'scalp' - "I'll give him a dial down. Stay put."

"Wouldn't dream of lifting a boot to go any other place." Zaire sounded cocky, he knew he had Pierre.

And he knew his ex-boyfriend missed him. He looked good in peach. Zaire knew him when he was only a cherry pie and now he's gone and grown into a bigger pan, got new filling and well, that bushy tail was even fuller and not the thread bare tangled fur nest it was before.

Zaire's tongue flicked out to shine his teeth. Dodo on his head made a weak chirp coo noise.

"I know ol'boy, me too" Zaire sighed. It had been too long since he'd recharged his cells or had any sort of ... decent intimate attention. He felt it in his scales, the piece of debris lodged in his spine was making him acie more than usual. He ran his hand over the coarse patch of fur on his abdomen, right over his marsupial pouch which was his genital interface port. He would love to take one of the cords just coiled and not being used sitting on the bar and stick it inside and feel the energy uploading into his body, making him feel less prehistoric and more mythic and majestic.

Zaire felt like a thirsty fossil, barely able to traverse the Kallisti Wylds to gather stray bits of bobs and junk to turn into the nearest Commerce Junction for a bit of coin for food and to pay for his lodgings. His poor Swamp pad was more of a Dirt hole these days. Aeons back, he could just remember when he found the lonely lagoon, bought it from a cranky ol' BeaverRat, he had annexed it from a family of otters who got evicted, when the Tortoises were having their all out territorial dispute with the rhino-badgers. Man, it's been a long Age. And the Land was so different now.

The jukebox started to wail a bluesy rhythm that had a jaunty beat to it. Reminding those in the saloon that the Soul exists and that some people still have theirs and share it via music. It was by a famous artist, small-time RodentWheel Dame, named Ritz. She grew up in the sewers, and made it to the big cities, yet the big cities never played her unless they were trying to sample the Ethnicity they were Oppressing. The Thirsty Dime a Day Dust Districts Played her music so much that it was by their devotion to her sound that she kept making the top charts.

Yet has she visited the sewers since she got famous? That is the real question isn't it.

The doors of the Saloon swung open, "Someone smell Peaches?" sneered the new arrival with a leering grin. "Well, well, well, I shoulda known, Pretty Pierre Cobbler Pie Dupri, what sort of baked up body are you walking around in now? One day I'm gonna get the rest of your saccharine sweet self, and sell you piece by piece to the Humans, they so love their desserts."

He sat down his heavy armadillo body and took out a fan to swat the stale air into his furry face.

"Modem overheating again, there, Curtis?" Pierre drawled, too tired to act like he liked the guy. Landlords are evil, and Curtis Mountain was no different than any of the rest.

"Only always, IF you paid me my rent on time then I can afford one of those new fangled nano models, instead of this bulky beast scraping at my insides with its dial up yowling." he cut a glance at the bartender, dusting the counter of the bar, the feather duster daintily dusting, while his claw of an other hand hung up the phone.

"Said you got something for me, collateral for the rent this week or some such nonsense, where is it?"

Pierre glanced toward the end of the bar, where the doll was leaning against the counter, charging, and Zaire was staring at one of the cords with a look of longing in his citrine eyes that Pierre almost felt guilty for not asking after his old flame. Maybe there would be another way to make it up to the ol' fossil. Something after hours with that syrup gun he never managed to use with anyone else. No, that was for him and Zaire, no one else could hold a candle to the precision of the Rancher.

Curtis heaved his heavy body over to look closer at the charging doll. "Hm. well, ain't seen that model since ... well, it has been a long spell since they did customs like this. Why ain't you charging all eight ports?"

Zaire looked toward the armadillo-bear and startled, "Sorry, what was it you asked?"

"Eight. She needs eight to be fully charged and to charge faster. What are you doing only loading her up on six. She aint' one of your dung beetles out in the weeds, she's top dollar, charge her properly or I don't want nothing to do with a half charged doll, no way to know if she's defective til she's fully charged. And I ain't takin' a Dame Doll on a half tank at all." Curtis said as he spit a wad of something into the tip jar on the other end of the bar.

Pierre wilted a little bit when he noticed that. But he nodded to Zaire who then took that as permission to use the other two ports. The doll groaned erotically again once the other two cord like tentacles were plugged in. The seed pod on her head started to glow a pulsing fluorescent rhythm and she kept making noises, sexy noises that made all three men go a little hot under the collar being forced to just watch the doll charge up slowly as she did so.

Gladys Eidolon 5000; BimBelani 21 and Vara Varmint. - the good girls came clip-clopping down the stairs from the brothel alcove above - down to the saloon. Ready to pull in the high rollers and make the money for their room and board.

"Aw hell, guess who's here" Gladys groaned in an annoyed braying whisper. Bim and Vara glanced over her shoulder to see the armadillo-bear skeezy landlord loitering about.

"Is he going to buy that girl on the counter?" Bim's antennae twitched anxiously. "That poor girl, we mustn't let that monster get his hands on her."

Vara yawned. "I got this. Follow my lead."

She sashayed by the other two swishing her fragrant skunky tail at them. The other two looked at each other then scrambled to sashay in line behind her quickly.

"Well, I knew I smelled power, how are you doing, Lord Curtis?"

The armadillo spun around to look toward the sound of her voice. Vara was the most beautiful Skunk Bunny Brothel Madam in the Dust District. Her Boudoir Posters were Top Dollar in the Big Cities. She could work anywhere she wanted, but due to her personal political philosophy she chose to work here, where she felt she could make a difference and that was the greater fortune in her eyes.

Gladys and Bim stood behind her like the flunkie bimbos they were. Trying to look either formidable and fierce or attractive and alluring. Vara was both without trying. Her scent was not like other skunks - it was modified with the pheromones of a Queen Bee, the last wild born one captured several centuries ago, all bees that exist now, were in captivity and in Human dominated districts, mined for their honey. Vara was incensed by it and every wage period she would donate to her favorite "Charity" which was really a rebel faction of revolutionaries fighting for Hybrid Civil Rights.

Curtis looked at Vara with open lust. "Well, if it isn't the top dollar whore, slumming it in Dust Town. Almost time for your shift isn't it? The bus is late, or this place would be filled with hungry customers already."

"Maybe they are waiting for you to leave, your skeezy aura is scaring all the prick product away!" Bim said in a pouty defiant voice her antennae buzzing rapidly on her head. Curtis glared at her. And was about to say something, before Vara stepped between them. "What if I promise you the night of your dreams, m'lord?"

Chuckling incredulously, "I ask you every night and you always say no, what makes you want to offer to me now?"

Vara's eyes went to the doll charging on the bar. Curtis's glance followed her gaze and then he smirked in a way that made his eyes go hollow. " You want the Doll. it will cost you more than one night, Vara. And I want no talk of limits, or safewords, I do what I want, how much I want. Three days. And you get the Doll." he said as he slid his grimy paw up Vara's arm.

"Five days, we get the doll, and it covers the rent for this saloon for good."

Curtis gave an incredulous chuckle again. Pierre went real quiet, as did Zaire as they listened. The only sound for the next few moments was the moaning cnidarian cybernetic doll as she steadily charged.

"Ten days if you want the rent covered and the doll"

"Done." Vara said, as she turned his groping caress on her arm into a firm handshake. He looked at her hand a little wary, he'd heard rumors of her pheromone locking her johns, turning them into nothing more than drones with a single touch. Vara smirked. "Oh, come now, it's only my hand, m'lord, if you are afraid to touch my hand, how ever are you going to enjoy the treat of the rest of me for ten whole days all to yourself?"

Frowning, Curtis puffed up his chest, it had been a long time since he'd gotten off, he knew he'd regret this,but one less saloon on his payroll wouldn't be the end of the world now would it? And it was just a dinky doll found in the dust. He shook Vara's hand. And as he felt her grip tighten stronger than his, and her insectoid eyes caught the light in a glimmer, Curtis felt a small lump of regret forming in his throat, like a pebble of coal.

"Shall we m'lord?" She tugged him along toward the bedroom upstairs. Glancing at Gladys who nodded as she walked by. Pierre glanced toward Zaire as Gladys stepped forward clip-clopping over to sniff the doll. "She'll need a good cleaning once she's charged up. My sonic shower is still operational. Do you mind, Bim?"

"Do I mind serving the saloon of clients all by myself? Oh sure, not at all, its been weeks since I had a good gangbang session. By all means, go ahead,." Bim's drawl felt heavy with sarcasm, but then she winked, she did actually enjoy gangbangs. Deeply enjoyed them. And as soon as she thought, that thought, she heard the bus stop out front , the weary workers unloaded at the last stop of that bus route and started to pile into the saloon for a drink and a fuck to energize them for the walk home across the Kallisti Wylds where no bus or car or any type of wheeled vehicle would dare drive across. The mirage energy in the wind mucked up the works. It was foot traffic alone home after the saloon. So the workers would stock up on energy, food and drink. Only to grab a few shakes of sleep only to repeat it all again at the start of the next day.

And tonight, it was all on Bim to energize them, and show them a good time. Must be her lucky day...