6:10 AM - Las Vegas, Nevada 

The sun's rays stretched long and far, acting like a strong hand that quickly engulfed the entire face and eyes of what had to be the most sentient peach in the world. Instead of smothering it to death, however, the firm grasp acted as nothing more than a second blanket that kept them asleep for another two hours, which was terrible news for someone that was attempting to close a deal with some of the most important people in America as of ten minutes ago.

Blerp Blerp Blerp

Eventually, the garbles of their very own alarm bird were enough to wake them up in what could only be described as a very enthusiastic terror, the type that ended in the most terrible of ways. The Peaches' shouts and curses could be heard down the street from all sorts of neighbors and passers-by, including the person who had come to wake them up, one of his bodyguard entourage, a young man who went by the name of 'a' and who was among a long family line of bodyguards that shared the same name.

"Peach, Peach, are you awake? Your business meeting was at 7, did you forget? Where the fuck are you?!"

Quickly they shuffled themselves out of their bed before the bodyguard could make their way up the stairs and luckily didn't need to put on any clothes seeing as how they were nothing more than an enlarged peach. All that had to be done now was a few flourishes to their plant-based hair, and everything would be perfect; outside of the half-closed eyes, no one would ever know that they had just woken up from a slumber of almost thirteen straight hours. 

"There you are, are you ready? They're waiting for you."

"Yeah, yeah. If this business falls through I have another eighteen ideas, you know?"

"That's not the point, these people are serious businessmen. You know what happens if they don't like your presentation, right? You don't have enough power to be fucking up like this." 

They had heard this same song and dance a million times by now: "You're not powerful enough." this was all that had been told to them for the few weeks since they gained human consciousness. Meanwhile, he had joined the American mob and worked up their ranks slowly but surely, and opened not one, but two failed businesses so far.

"You know what? I don't even give a fuck. I'm not going."

"What do you... what do you mean? If you don't go to this how will you ever open up another Smackaroo's again? You need their backing, that's just how this wor-" before they could finish, the Peach waved his hand in a rather dismissive way and walked over to their window, wistfully looking out of it for a moment. 

"I have a better idea. I'm going to let the world know the real me."

"Didn't you just start existing two weeks ago? Is there even anything to know?"

Peach would have shot this man right then and there if they hadn't lost his gun to yet another failed pickpocketing attempt in the city of Detroit, who even though had all died seemed to keep their mugging spirit alive in these trying times. This was a great idea, and it would cultivate quite the amount of clout, just like the kind they needed to gain franchising rights for a new business.

Preachin' Peach

As you may all know, I am quite an important figure-- acting as a Left Hand for Justice for well over four days now, and holding the title of Earner which is the third most least powerful title in the entire world. Whoever asks me the best question will receive three full credits, which can buy you a lot of different things, as we all know.

Don't hesitate to ask me anything. I'll answer it all, and I'm also taking donations... you know, for if anyone wants to help me out, its pretty expensive opening up all of these businesses that I'll never actually take care of. There's a lot of upkeep to ignore, and I plan to ignore all of it.

Let me inspire you. 

Let me teach you.

Let's explore the unexplored, together. We might just learn a lot about each other along the way, and remember, there's an entire three credits that will be given to the best question, so get creative. Or don't.

Sassy Peace was a breath of fresh air in Las Vegas. He had seen the fall of Gnoch the goblin and clearly decided there was clear opportunity, scope and demand to fill a niche opportunity. In the back of Hobbs mind he remembered another would-be competition hosted some time ago, where riddles were briefly offered on the streets before being unceremoniously removed without rewards. Hobbs could only hope this one would go better.

"Sassy, my question is as simple as it is obvious: When does a Peach stop being sassy, and instead become savage?"

Hobbs stopped back as the question was asked.

"Now this here is a question with a lot of spunk, a lot of gall, and an extra helping of uncreativity. I highly doubt that you will step foot into the ring of entrants that have a chance to win the two glorious credits, but I do thank you for coming out here and at least trying your best. Hopefully there's someone out there with a better best than this, or else I'm worried for the future of Preachin' Peach as an idea."

The question lingered in their mind for a few moments, and they wondered if they were capable of doing anything but slightly pass aggressive asides that were more of a snarl than a bite. Surely, somewhere deep inside of the Peach's core, there was a creative place that would allow them to be a bit more crude than usual, but this wasn't something that they wanted to find out right now; at least not with the hand-me-down Giorgio asking the questions, he would be a Godfather soon and should be respected a little bit.

"I'm sure it is possible for me to be more than sassy, much like it would be possible for me to come up with a better question. Hopefully, you find your potential before I find mine. These credits rely on it."

Jingling a small purse with a lot of coins inside, they quickly put it away and went back to answering trivia questions inside of the bar that they were running this competition out of. To spend money, you have to make money, and what a better way to make money than winning it while getting trivia answers wrong all night long? 

SassyPeach had been strutting around the HQ with an air of importance about them. And a slight stench of body odour that couldn't quite be masked by the smugness exuding from them. Justice was sure this peach was far from pure, and he had to be sure. Seeing his opportunity, he steps forward to ask SassyPeach the ultimate question that would reveal their moral standing. 

Sassy, my dear left hand. The true power of The Supreme Court. Do you wipe sitting down or standing up?

While there wasn't a whole lot of respect for the question and answer portion taking place right now, it would have to be let slide as the people who kept coming to ask them all seemed to be semi-respected members of this society. You'd think with such power and pull there would be more interesting conversations to be had, but alas...

"Well, you see, this is a question that I didn't expect and one that might be a bit too controversial to say out loud." 

Most of the reasoning behind refusing to answer wasn't so much that, but rather the fact that seeing as how they were just a peach, there wasn't a whole lot coming out down there besides juice so most of the time they wouldn't wipe at all. Embarrassingly enough, these issues were the types that you just wouldn't admit in front of such a large audience of people who definitely all cared about getting to know the Left Hand of who was shaping up to be the next Godfather of Detroit-- big pants to fill, indeed.

"So with that in mind, I'll need to give you my first pass. Do you have another question to ask me? I'd love to answer anything else."

With their refusal to answer the question, Justice realised he may just have to invest in the security system for the toilets at The Supreme Court. Being that it was 1950, this would consist of paying a poor shmuck to sit in the in the sewage system with a periscope coming out of the bowl. Too much work, some things are better left as a mystery. 

Ok I have another question for you. How do I come to terms with the fact that I am a beacon of truth and honesty, yet still feel the need to partake in a life of organised crime? I am at war with myself it seems. My closest allies are out here conning schlubs and taking pensions from the post office, am I supposed to turn a blind eye? HELP ME PEACH BOY. 

A man born in Detroit, Bricktown. At some random time, no one could ever find decided to take a stroll through a nondescriptive thoroughfare. He happened to find himself lookin' at a soapbox operator standin' on the corner. Mouthin' off the sound of of deeds done under certain creeds. He found it rather informative but had a hard time payin' attention. Some orange-capped man came out with a bit of his OOC-itis. The tinnitus might just take this'n under I reckon. Not sure he's equipped for quips of a certain nature, that burn at certain degrees.

The one that can grow aloe Vera just dances through oncoming traffic of passerby'rs as he finds a stoop to sit on. O'dea ol' head had concurred it was time for a wicked spliff. The undescriptive and hardly clothed lad begins rollin' at a hurried pace.

It had been some days since SassyPeach had started his preaching sessions in the streets and yet a lot had changed. He has moved back to the city of Las Vegas to work for the new Godfather of Paradise and his auth Cheetara. His sassiness had got him up the ranks! The city was thriving and growing well, even Daiquiri had gone up a level too. In fact the residents of Las Vegas were so busy doing their daily work that none of them had noticed that the new Godmother of The Strip had gone walkies. 

Daiquiri was making her way to the streets, she too was getting curious about how preachy a SassyPeach could be. But she could not exactly go as herself. She got herself a disguise. A white curly-haired wig, hair scarf to tie over it, a long trench coat, false old-looking teeth, granny-like glasses and a crooked walking stick. She really did look the part. She hunched over a bit and slowly walked towards the area where SassyPeach was preaching.  

She prayed no one would recognise her. As she got to the preaching spot of town, she spotted her left-hand man, Void, sitting on a stool paying attention to SassyPeach's wishdoms. "Fiddlesticks" Daiquiri muttered as she tried to walk around behind him. "Here take my seat mam," Void said as he noticed her struggling to walk by "oh oh" she began to reply "What such kindness young man, thank you" she replied to Void, as she allowed him to help her sit down upon the stool. "It's no problem" he replied as he went to stand with the crowds.

Relieved Void hadn't cottoned on it was her, Daiquiri waited till it was her turn to speak. "You can be next!", SassyPeach shouted as he pointed in her direction, "Will you need me to shout louder for you?" he enquired, Daiquiri shooked her head sideways "I am quite alright thank you, what a lovely young man you are!", she said. She got herself in position and began to ask her question.

"As you can see, I am a very very very old lady. You are a wee lad in comparison to me!" she began to say, as her eyes spotted how knobbly his knees were. She couldn't help but wonder if he needed to eat more. They seemed thinner than Hobbs noodle-like arms. She had to get herself to refocus on her mission, she looked back up to the peachy face and continued to talk "You say you are a Preaching Peach, as Sassy one at that. But you are so young! So my question to you is this." She paused, what she was about to say could mess her up, she needed to keep her composure, "How does a SassyPeach know enough to preach. What makes a SassyPeach become a SassyPreachingPeach and if you had to be preached to, what would SassyPeach need to be preached about?" she asked, "Basically, how do we preach the PreachingPeach?" she finished up saying, as she kept up the eye contact with the sassiest of all peaches known to man. 

"People, people.", the preachin' peach slowly backed away from the large mass of men and women who were now shouting from every and all directions as they headed behind some bulletproof glass that was quickly slapped together with some glue, more concerned with safety than looks it was all quite a mess. 

"Recently I had a ten thousand dollar hit placed on my very head. As such, I will need to stop answering questions out here in the Streets until I am sure that my life is no longer at a risk." 

Cowering behind the large panes of glass that would surely stop any would-be attacker from taking him out, a large convoy of at least eighty bodyguards showed up to protect them. You could swear it was two hundred if you squinted, but it was really only about eighty, so if anyone did want to take the shot they'd only have to account for about eighty, just a heads up to anyone that wants to put the peach out of their misery and actually pays attention to everything that they say. Little fun easter egg, you know? 

"I wish I could answer all of you questions, but sadly due to all of the craziness from my life being threatened to be ended, much like the hero Gnoch who saved millions of lives in Las Vegas by sacrificing himself for the greater good, I have forgotten everything that was asked of me. If you could please write your questions on a piece of paper and press it up against the glass, that would be greatly appreciated."

They were a peach of the people, after all, and didn't want to let them down. Surely with the new questions being asked there would be a whole lot more preachin' for the peachin.

Questions are now $10,000 each, due to money needing to be recuperated from the terrible hit placed against me.

One of his many bodyguards (if you squinted) put up this sign just outside of the area that was being used to protect them. Hopefully there would be thousands of questions asked, and so millions would be raised to make sure that any future hits would be bought off in a swift manner that would keep these threatening men (or women) away.

You could not be too careful these days, and now that everything was situated it was time to answer questions yet again. 

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. SassyPeach has declined to answer her question. Her rather valid question, over a measly $10k hit. The hit was tinier than his knobbly knees that were trembling with fear. "Huh," Daiquiri began to mumble, "More like Scaredy-Cat-Peach than Sassy" she continued, as she rumbled around her coat pocket for her notepad and pen. She wasn't going to give up on her silly mission. She was going to make that so-called preacher of the peaches answer. 

She wrote out the question she had on a piece of paper.

Dear Sassy 'Preaching' Peach

If you answer my question well, I shall wire you more than your asking cost of $10,000. 

What makes a SassyPeach become a SassyPreachingPeach and if you had to be preached to, what would SassyPeach need to be preached about?

Regards,

Ethal

Before getting it given to the so-called preacher. She got herself comfortable on the stool, again, as she waited in anticipation. 

Ponders his question for a moment having seen the poster board asking him to ask questions to one SassyPeach and decides that he might as well join in Respected and known memeber of society or not!

SO! if you are Sassy and you are quiet large, why has no one called you, or better yet you have not crowned yourself "Giant" and then named a BG James yet? :o seems like a sassy move to me and it seems like a wasted moment!