[Patrick Vykkers]

OOC: I'll keep that in mind next time. It's really too late to go back, now that Slaveless has dropped the mother of all posts on W@RF.
IC:
Praetyre watched the Slig and Mudokon dodge his shots and tried to distract them while he reloaded the Snuzis with fresh clips;
"Listen up! Any of you no good pieces of Slurg intestines threaten the Boss, and I'll fill you so fill of needles you'll be the centerpiece of a news story on Right to Die legislation! All Inhabitants aligned with the boss, I suggest you try and hit these traitors from a distance! Boss and second Boss, I'll stand down if you want me to. I'm just trying to protect you."
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Arrack watched the Intern dash to wipe off his bile and bodily fluids and felt a grimace of sadness across his face. While he continued to try and tell more tales of his previous work, he felt a ping of guilt that eventually he could not suppress. He switched from an eccentric version of his normal personality to his sad one, weeping tears from his intact eyes that seeped and massaged his throbbing, open blood vessels. He moaned;
"Pwease, pwease forwive me! I'm so very very very sorry, mummy! Pwease don't beatie me againses! Please don't make me ever do guardie duties for 80 hoursies more! I can't takies itses mummy! DON'T GIVE ME HURTSIES ANY MORE!".
Arrack screamed, exposing the abomination that was his tongue. He thrashed against his metallic restraints like a rabid Slog crossed with a baby, wailing and then trying to turn over and hide his sobbing.
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Domino heard the rapid running of someone outside the Hub, and then the extremely loud and horrible wailing of a Slig. He at first recoiled like a threatened animal, but then decided to investigate. He sat up, went up to the hub door, and opened it, walking out and simultaneously closing it like he had done for his master 2000 times. He headed towards the source of the wailings, a place marked as the laboratory. He shuddered to think what could be occuring, but his submissiveness should ensure a good deal of forgiveness, he thought. He knocked on the door with his bony hands, all the while saying;
"Sorry to interrupt, but could you keep that awful noise down? It sounds like a Fuzzle left on the burner."