Briefcases added to the slit the neighbours throat world of sindome would indeed by quite… quite mad.
Picture the scene, A calm and quiet morning up on Gold, the local fuzz have cleared away what remains of some oh so silly fool that thought in his own strange world that he could best a judge. The masses of the corperate wage slaves shift's from side to side like the gentle rolling of the sea that was once so peaceful sight to watch before the toxic dumping began. Strolling through the mass is a lone figure, the sun ricochets on the dark lenses of his mirrorshades, his suit screams money and power at those that would pass him by.
He stops at the base of the WHJ tower and a slight smile crosses his face.... not the smile of any normal being, but a smile that drove shocking sparks down to the based of your very spine, a smile that a shark would give it's prey moments before it ate it's victim like lunch. A door is classically flung open and the briefcase is frisbee'd in. Judges watch as it gracefully passes through the air in a slow motion moviesque arc.
Until it hits the based of a pillar that was more for decoration than support and the world went quiet.
The explosion rips through the east lobby of the tower killing the 3 judges that so innocently moments ago where standing there. Fragments of person and building shower the street and confusion erupts, panic spreads like a class-3 virus and the trampling of the weak begins.
The watchful eye of the apparently all controlling judges grows dim and zips into a slient death.
The year of chaos begins.
In short... Briefcases = Briefcase bombs, Bobbie traps, Weapons, Storage for not just money but other random equipment that requires something more lockable that the pocket of someones combat trousers.
But most of all... It's a style thing.
