Ihp and Riemann's Amazing Collaborative Run!

**Ihp and Riemann's Amazing Collaborative Run!:** Hannibal and the Spies!

**PLOT:** Dr. Hilbert and Agent Smith go to New York City on personal leave, and whilst there, decide to head over to the Plutone e Bacco, a popular nightclub in Little Italy. Soon, the Foundation picks up reports of anomalous activity in the area, and Psi-7 is deployed to investigate.

At the night club, they find Hill and Susan acting very... out of character. Susan is under the delusion that she is Hannibal, leader of the Carthaginian Forces during the Second Punic war, and Hilbert is a Gaul under her command, going by Anachronistix. They are within a swamp in the Apennines, and several of Hannibal's men are weak, sick, and dying. Hannibal encourages them to all drink heartily. However, when Psi-7 enters (after having their guns confiscated by bouncers outside the nightclub who are unaffected by the script), they are captured by "Hannibal's" forces and locked in the bathroom, where they will be later executed. Furthermore, Susan thinks that her right eye is infected, and is attempting to arrange for a certain Gaul to cut it out...

Can Psi-7 stop the script before it's carried out without use of their weapons? Or will Susan lose her eye, and possibly her life, due to their incompetence? Only one way to find out!

"Drink of this cup, and soon, Rome will be ours. O Gauls and Men of Carthage, So Spake Hannibal, Son of Hamicar Barca."

Descriptions. And Stuff. To be edited.
The best way to describe the nightclub would be clean. Warm lights, inverted into the ceiling, spread a golden glow into the club, as men and women come and go like moths among the soft whisperings. Champagne, like liquid gold sparkles gently in crystal flutes. Straight out of a Rockewell painting, they lean against polished brass rail, sad and lovely and bright faces hinting promises of a great excitement, impossible to forget. Rounds of cocktails float around the bar, the air alive with laughter and chatter, casual introductions forgotten even as they are said. Conversation flows as freely as the champagne, swelling, forming and dissolving as new people enter. Confident girls weave through the room, flushed with excitement, drawing the attentions of suitors, and, for a blissful moment, become the centre of attention, gliding through the sea of faces and voices and colours.

Towards the back, thick polished oaken doors tower, gently reflecting the warmth of the bar. It took many men to move these silent sentinels, and would take many more to remove them.

The penthouse contains several Carthaginian and Roman artifacts from periods ranging from Romulus and Remus to the Second Punic War to Caesar to the Decline and Fall. He has a collection of daggers, several scrolls, a wolf skin, a rotted leather eye-patch, samples of hair, and a strange painting of a black-eyed figure in Carthaginian garb, riding alongside Hannibal at Zama, the battle where Carthage surrendered.