Barry knew that he couldn't really call his resting place a home. It was just a small caravan parked in a dodgy alleyway near to the local skip. It was covered in mould, fungus and had some 'questionable' odours but in his mind he knew that the old relic had character. Plus it was the only place he could afford to sleep in.
Life had been rough- he thought he'd met the love of his life and thought that they had an everlasting relationship. After bitter arguments, cheating and terrible decisions from both sides, they had split up and Barry was exiled from his own home and banned for a few years from seeing his own children. He'd tried to bounce back by bringing back his band, the Ruff' Riders back but they'd been told they were 'too retro for the new times'.
To make matters worse his ex-wife married a gun toting brickhead commando who hated Barry even more than she did. He'd also done a LOT of bad investments that had quickly gone south; who would have thought no one would want to buy squirrel powered motorised tricycles?
Anyway, he'd slipped into a dark period, turning to alcohol and drugs to keep him going, losing his treasured physique that he'd cherished in his younger years.
This specific day had started off badly for Barry. He'd been rejected at an interview as they realised that he was intoxicated for the whole time and hadn't been sober for many weeks. On the way back his car had been taken away by the police as they realised he was DUI. He's had to walk past some shifty neighbourhoods as he made his way back to his 'home'.
He could hardly contain himself as he sped into the shelter of his caravan. He swiped old cartridges of Chinese takeaway and fried chicken boxes as he placed the cylinder on his table. "This could be it!" he said loudly to himself, unable to control his excitement. "All these years... I've been waiting for a break like this for so long and it's finally here..."
He shook the object and turned it over in his hands. 'What the hell is it?" As soon as he saw the strange symbols, he knew he could make some big cash by selling it off to a museum or a private buyer. "They'll all be lining around the block trying to get their hands on this," he chuckled to himself as he imagined riches in his head. "Just as soon as I find out what it does..."
Getting frustrated by the object, Barry vehemently threw it to the ground, causing...
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