CAL Contact info: doghead@ratbike.org Full name Cal Wallis Title n/a Residence: Incredibly messy home made from an old railroad passanger car on the edge of town with an adjoining garage and workshop. Place in GRIT: Taxi driver. Gender: Male Race: Undecipherable blend. Height: Six foot four and a half. Weight: Approximately 10 stone. Eyes: Gray. Hair: Mid back length and extremely messy brown hair that everyone want's to describe as 'shit brown' for some unknown reason. Equally scruffy short gingerish beard. Birthday: April 27th 1978. Bloody type: He's never had it tested. Curse: Unable to speak a single sentance without swearing; thus his knowledge of obscure language obsceneties. Other: Has thick black fur on back of forearms. Tall and thin. Chain smokes. Constant bad grammer. Slight but noticeable Scottish accent. Clothing Decrepit leather jeans, biker boots, decrepit black Ogri T-shirt, padded leather biker jacket with a single red anarchy logo on the back, wide black leather belt with a wolf's head buckle, old fashioned lambswool lined brown leather driving gloves. Props Ratbike. Heavily customised and incredibly battered motorycle built from a vast range of scrounged bits and peices. Looks like a self - propelled scrapyard and goes like a bat out of hell. Fitted with a tug siren, turbocharger, nitrous oxide and an extremely loud stereo. Hot-rod taxi. A supercharged armed and armoured nitrous - assisted Dodge Charger RT taxi with a wide variety of James Bond-esque tricks and doodads. Including the passanger seat ejector and cellphone remote control. Adorned with complex hand - painted murals and Anarchy logos. Lightchainsaw. A cross between a chainsaw and a lightsabre. Cal accquired this deadly little toy from an undead Jedi Lumberjack. It's black with a four foot blade and the word 'KORG' written on the side in white. Miss Kitty. What looks almost exactly like an Uzi. It isn't. Personality: On the surface Cal is shy and self-effacing (unless he's in his car.) He avoids eye contact, speaks quietly, frequently stumbles over his words. He keeps himself to himself but remembers every customer. He's actually a desperatley lonely young man who's just too nervous to do anything about it. He is a walking encyclopedia of Nerima street adresses. Although he lives outside Tokyo he comes into Nerima to look for customers - there's almost always someone around who would like to get a ride in a four wheeled rocketship. People who want to get away very quickly. People who want to stop other people getting away. And so on. It easily pays the bills. He is obsessed with fast cars, firearms and motorbikes. He constantly listens to heavy metal rock music; it's always blasting out of his taxi or converted railway carriage. Small wonder that his incredibly messy home is well away from other human habitation. And that's the way he likes it - Cal likes having as much elbow room as possible when he's at home. Cal is a comic artist of some talent although he has never even tried to get anything published. He just recently moved to the area from Scotland. Identifying quotes: "Look, I don't think that's a good idea, man..." "You want the problem at all - LET'S HIT THE ROAD!" (sounds of revving V8 and squealing tyres.) " you, you of a !"