The 70's have just drawn to a close and, for most people, that
means the end of the wide ties, the flares, the sideburns and various
other fashion crimes.
Time was, not too long ago, that to be a great agent in CI5 all you
needed was a rough unshaven charm, the ability to make your car tires
squeal even on gravel or grass and the willingness to push your weight
around like a gun toting school bully.
Back then, the ends justified the means. You kicked the door in, grabbed the criminal and tossed anyone who objected through a plate glass window! Anyone who called a lawyer was obviously a 'girly' criminal and no-one really cared, right?
But, dear reader, the good times couldn't last for ever...
NB: 'based' on a true story of the 70's. Some details have been changed to protect the innocent. Hand wash your shag pile carpet only. Do not tumble dry.
The 70's have just drawn to a close and, for most people, that
means the end of the wide ties, the flares, the sideburns and various
other fashion crimes.
Yes, my friends, style is back in control. Big boofy haired, designer style! Flares!? Sideburns!? Who'd be seen dead in that. Like eeeew!
Rejoice, my well accessorised friend, the horror of the past is being replaced with the way of the future. All that tacky stuff is gone! Pastels and leg warmers are here to stay!
On this change of style comes a new breed of man and woman. They are emerging from university with a designer wardrobe, a drive to push their way to the top and expectation of success.
George Cowley, head of CI5, is fighting to keep his organization a bastion of 'real agents', mostly mercenaries with the morals of a pit bull or ex-police who know how to get a confession out of a suspect who is about to 'resist arrest'.
Lately, poor Old George is having a hard time justifying to various equal opportunity courts exactly why a job in Britians top crime fighting agency was given to a thug named Dave rather than Harriet, who speaks 3 languages and has a double Masters Degree in criminal psychology and international Law from Oxford.
Bad George.
Bye bye Dave. Hello Harriet.
Slowly, but surly, the doors to CI5 are being plied open, legal fingernail by legal fingernail and George Cowley's 19th century boys club is losing the battle against 20th century by equal employment legislation. Shoulder padded women and men with designer stubble, are finally entering one of the last bastions of 70's macho machismo, CI5.
I'm uncertain about the xfiles/supernatural/scifi element of the game and Id love to hear anyones input on how they think it should be.
Notice the lack of Spooky Moulder types here? I've got an idea to provide the Xfiles link (as needed), so don't feel you have to Lone Gunman yourself up.
You like fast cars, fast women and big guns.
Your days are numbered son. Enjoy 'em while you can.
Character is most likely to: Die a hero or end up a crass, grumpy old man who embarrasses everyone.
When you were a little girl, your mum told you you could do anything
and thats exactly what you want to do. You finished 2nd in your class
(you had a cold during exams). You wanted adventure and to be the best
and CI5 is the top police agency in the country. You want in.
Character is most likely to: Get narked off at the old boys club, leave CI5, have a think for a week or two, start a modest billion dollar, multinational business, purchase most of Malta for a holiday retreat.
You wouldn't be seen dead in an English car or English clothes. German
wheels and Italian threads for you. Your choices were either male
model or CI5 agent and, to be honest, you figured that joining CI5
would be kind of like having your own personal trainer.
Character is most likely to: End up being thrown out of CI5 for some kind of unspecified and ungentlemanly relationship with your hairdresser, sorry, hair stylist.