Miss Planner and her loyal assistant Black Wolf were conducting a site visit at a Chosen drug processing plant. Fully staffed with hundreds of Chosen acolytes selected for their absolute loyalty to the cause, the facility was clean, organized, and well-lit.  Each acolyte was assigned a specific task, and none were allowed to deviate from their duties. Since the manufacturing process was carefully mapped out by the perfect Miss Planner herself, there was little room for error.

"The security here is lacking," said Black Wolf. A brutal man covered in tattoos, he was a former gang leader who found spirituality and joined the Chosen Ones after a near-death experience. He was ruthless, efficient, and always followed Miss Planner's orders without question. "I could tear this place to pieces."

"I could kill everyone here myself if I wanted to," replied Miss Planner curtly. "It would be a disaster if any of our enemies found this place. I'd love to have more guards stationed here, but it's going to be like this until we can scale back some of our other operations. We can only put our most trusted people here, after all. We need to keep the production process a secret."

"Yeah. I'm not sure it matters. I doubt anyone will find this place. What are we doing here, anyway?"

"We're here for the site visit, of course! But there's another reason we're stopping by today, too. The production division has been hard at work on a new product! It’s called 'Rampage.' It's similar to Nuke, but stronger and more addictive. I’m taking a few sample doses back to the Tower."

"When I was in charge of the Brotherhood, we found a supplier that tried the same thing... the drug they cooked up was pure evil. It practically drove half our members to suicide.”

"We’ve improved on the formula quite a bit, and we're going to go through a very thorough round of testing, just to make sure," replied Miss Planner, holding up a box of Nuke to the light for examination. "It’s for internal use only... we don't want anything this strong getting into general circulation."

"Ugh. The stuff we sold was really nasty. I think it was the worst drug ever created. Just being near this stuff is getting me sick. And the acolytes aren't even wearing any protective equipment. They're getting it all over their fingers."

"I'm going to set up an incentive program to make sure the acolytes wear their gear. Compliance is really low right now, but a change imposed is a change opposed. I want our acolytes to be the happiest and safest workers in the world."

"What a humanitarian," scoffed Black Wolf. "I don't think I've ever seen this much Nuke in one place. There's enough in here to get the entire city hooked on this junk. It makes my skin crawl."

"I know it's not pretty, but this is all in service of our greater goal. One day, every human on the planet will begin the journey towards our level of spiritual enlightenment. The medicine we make here will help them reach that point. It's about time we head out... we have a busy day ahead of us!"

"Hm? What are you talking about?"

"I'm taking you out for a trip today! I'm having a meeting with the Ghouls at the Skinyard. We're going to give them an invitation to our conference next month."

Black Wolf's face contorted into an expression of sheer rage.
"The Ghouls? Those homeless freaks? I thought we were going to wipe them all out!"

"Oh, no. We're colleagues in the same industry! The Ghouls understand that too, or they'd never agree to meet with us! Our product is premium, and we sell it for a very high price. We'd go broke if we tried to capture the Ghoul’s share of the market! We can't sell everything we produce as is. If everything goes well today, the Ghouls might be able to help us with that!"

"Huh. You sure know how to butter your bread," said Black Wolf with contempt. "I hope those child-killing cannibals try something. I'm itching for a fight."

"I hope they don't! I detest violence. Let's grab the sample of Rampage and get going!"

The two criminals left the secret Nuke processing plant deep in the heart of Chosen territory and navigated their way through the streets of Grandebelle. It was a bright, sunny morning and the city was filled with people enjoying the pleasant weather. Miss Planner wore her usual black business attire, while Black Wolf was dressed in a black tank top and blood-stained gray jeans. The odd pair made quite a spectacle on the crowded streets.

"The Skinyard is outside of the city proper," said Miss Planner. "The Ghouls will do almost anything to avoid the attention of the city government."
"I know where it is," growled Black Wolf. "We'll be there in five minutes. I can smell it already. Those Ghoul roaches turn everything they touch into a disgusting pile of garbage."

Black Wolf led the way to the Skinyard. It was the enormous skeleton of a grounded cargo ship, its nakedness mostly covered by an industrial quantity of tan-colored fabric. A carpet of trash was strewn everywhere around the forsaken ship, with jagged hunks of metal poking out here and there like evil flowers.

"Watch your step," said Black Wolf. "They really did a number on this place."

Black Wolf kicked away a chunk of rusty iron and marched through the field of trash with a fierce expression on his face. Miss Planner followed behind him with a spring in her step. They reached the rear end of the dilapidated ship and approached the landing gear.

"I wonder what happened to the Ghouls," said Black Wolf. "This place is deserted."
"Hold on. I hear something...”

The sound of a ringing bell approached from the other side of the ship. A filthy old man in worn streetwear emerged from around the corner, carrying an antique brass bell on a leather strap over one shoulder.

"Ah, it's our Chosen guests. I'm Snatcher, a humble representative of the Council of Crows. Welcome to the Skinyard."
Miss Planner gave a little curtsy. Black Wolf crossed his arms and grunted.

"Thank you for agreeing to see us today. I've spoken with you on the phone, but we've never formally met. My name is Planner, and this is my assistant Black Wolf."
"The pleasure is all mine. Please, come inside," replied Snatcher. He folded away a strip of tan fabric, revealing the interior of the Skinyard. "I'm afraid it's not much to look at, but I hope you won't hold that against us."

The guts of the beached cargo ship were a grim sight. The ground was covered with a thick layer of discarded clothing and scraps of paper. There were piles of plastic bags filled to bursting, containing broken electronics, bottles, and cans. The smell wasn't too bad, surprisingly, perhaps owing to the pathetically thin cloth barrier between the Skinyard and the outside world.

"It's actually quite comfortable in here, once you get used to it," said Snatcher.
"It's certainly roomy," remarked Miss Planner. "How many people live here?"

"Very few of us are here during the day, but at night we have as many as four or five hundred. We make use of every inch."

The Ghoul guided the Chosen Ones deep inside the ship. There was no lack of light. The interior of the Skinyard was carved up into many tiny rooms separated by makeshift walls and partitioning, with a single corridor running down the center. It looked like an overgrown jungle of cubicles.

"There are plenty of places for privacy. Some people even bring their own furniture. But for the most part, this is a public space... everyone shares the same facilities."
"I see," said Miss Planner with a smile. "You Ghouls do keep your lives simple."

"The Ghoul way of life isn't for everyone. We're used to getting by on very little. If you're interested, I can show you around. These are the living quarters, and this is the community kitchen..."
"No. I don't think so. We're here for business," muttered Black Wolf with a scowl.
"We appreciate your hospitality, but I think it's about time we started our discussion," said Miss Planner.

Snatcher led the way into an impromptu meeting room, a shipping container fitted with tables and chairs made from driftwood.

"Please take a seat," said Snatcher. "What would you like to talk about?"

Miss Planner sat elegantly with her hands folded on her lap while Black Wolf stayed standing, arms crossed.

"You know why we're here, right? I hope you don't mind if I get right to business. The Chosen Ones are scaling back our operations... and we have an excess of materials for the Nuke manufacturing process that we'd love to convert into cash!"

Miss Planner pulled out a small notebook and a pen. She flipped through the pages until she found her notes.

"I've prepared some numbers here. The ingredients are all good quality, and I'm sure you'll find the price is very reasonable. You'd be doing us a big favor, after all. We can ship wherever you'd like... some discretion would be appreciated, of course. And the delivery date could also be flexible..."

"The Council of Crows wants to buy, but it depends on the specifics," said Snatcher. "We work with a tight budget. I'm afraid I can't give any guarantees."

Miss Planner smiled at him reassuringly and nodded. Black Wolf watched them in silence. He seemed rather unimpressed by the whole thing, as usual.

"I didn't mention this over the phone, but if cash is tight... we'd be happy to negotiate another form of payment," whispered Miss Planner. "You Ghouls really do have a bad reputation. Of course, it would remain a secret... but if you have young girls for trade, we might be able to settle things that way... rest assured no harm would come to them."

Black Wolf looked utterly disgusted. The Ghoul laughed nervously and glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening before speaking again.

"I'll mention it to the Council," he said quietly. "They might be willing to consider it."