Ask about the Special Jobs from James Garret

Madeline wanted to see what these "special jobs" from Garret might entail. If she could make a load of caps quickly, it might be better dealing with some single strange client than laying on her back for a dozen men or more.

Madeline found James and inquired.

"James," Madeline said with an air of familiarity he probably didn't deserve "You said you had some 'special' job you wanted a girl to handle?" James looked her up and down. He already knew everything underneath her clothes but he still liked looking.

"Ah yes." he said with a smile "I got a few jobs, some that a lotta the gals won't do."

Madeline was pretty shocked by that. She had seen some of the veteran whores fry their brain with Jet and have men back to back in a single evening.

"I got a few clients who have...very...." he paused and leaned in as if conspiratorially "particular tastes. Or at least its not maybe what a regular working gal wants to deal with. That's why I ask for volunteers."

Madeline knew it was just because James was too busy fucking his own workers than out of any real sort of charitable feelings.

"What are the jobs?" Madeline asked, crossing her arms as if to ward James from making a move. It only encouraged him to stare at her cleavage which was pretty much the best rack in Freeside. He paused to fantasize then came back to reality.

"Oh, right right." he said gathering his thoughts "So there is a guy who...well he has a robot. And he...he wants to watch you fuck him."

"The Robot?" Madeline asked--her face legitimately puzzled as she held back a laugh.

"Look I know." He huffed. "The guy has a Mr. Handy and he wants to see a woman get pleasured by it while he takes care of himself. You don't even have to fuck the client. Pay is 750 Caps."

"Then there is a group of NCR soldiers--they got a party going on and I guess they want to have some fun. They pooled 1000 caps. But I will say, they must have been the rough sort if they can't get their rocks off on the Strip--Or the Gomorrah is charging an arm and a leg now a days."

"Anything else?" Madelinine said as she considered what a bunch of drunk soldiers might do to a pretty girl and shivered.

"Yeah one more...but I figure its not worth telling ya." James said as he shook his head.

"Well now I am really curious." Madeline said with a soft laugh. She did want to know what might have been stranger than a man watching someone fucking a robot.

"Jesus, its...." He paused as if still hesitent to even tell Madeline "Its a fucking Ghoul."

"A Ghoul!?" Madeline exclaimed in surprise. She had learned a lot about the wasteland and that some individuals who had been warped by misshapen by massive amounts of radiation were called Ghouls. Feral Ghouls also existed but intelligent Ghouls seemed rare and often held pre-war knowledge supposedly they had lived that long thanks to the effects of intense and sudden radiation exposure.

"Look I know I know--it's crazy." James said, "Some Ghoul says he feels like he might be dying and he wants to get his jollies off one last time."

"What's the pay?" Madeline asked half jokingly "I imagine it's gotta be pretty high to deal with a Ghoul."

"Shit are you actually thinking about it?" He said in shock "Well hell--I be you are just pulling my leg. But you are right--it would take a bundle full of caps. You'd get 2,000."

Madeline crossed her arms as she considered her options.