![]() ![]() He relies on raids for his gasoline, sending out war parties in their makeshift machines to pillage and steal precious fuel. Sometimes he’ll open the floodgates and allow it to gush from the rocks, where his serfs below can lap it up. ![]() He hoards the water inside his stone citadel. Immortan Joe built his empire on these three commodities. But there are those who crave the blood, who treat it like a narcotic biofuel. Blood is cheaper and easier to come by of value only to the person to whom it belongs, and sometimes not even him. Water and gas are rare wonders in this dry, dusty dystopia-the elements that keep its people alive and their vehicles moving. Those are the currencies in Mad Max’s world-liquid assets, if you will.
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