[OOC: hmm... did anyone notice this thread before? it's pretty important...]
“Cheeky f*cking squids… All think they got a right to come in here, demanding service…â€
Arim was wiping the surface of his new bar. He’d decided to officially expand his license beyond a Restaurant, to include a Bar and an Inn, and he’d had a high success rate. Pyke had a small population, but had a large number of visitors, mostly just passing through on their way to somewhere else. Arim had been putting most of them up unofficially for a while now, and had decided to make his building an official Inn, so that he could attract more clients.
His problem was sligs. They were the bane of his life. For every honest, hard-working mudokon who came to him seeking shelter for the night, there was a ****ing squid, looking for somewhere to crash out in between… in between whatever the hell it was that they got up to during the day…
“Oi! Eight Brews, my good man. Chilled.â€
Looking up from his work, Arim saw a small squadron of sligs, filling much of the space in the bar…
He shook his head and bent down to scrub the bar again. “Sorry, we don’t serve Sligs. Take your slime somewhere else.â€
There was a pause, while the Sergeant looked at the rest of them in disbelief, before turning back to Arim. “I beg yer pardon?â€
"Said we don't serve sligs, now piss off!"
The sergeant froze for a second, then brought up the butt of his rifle into Arim's chin, throwing him backwards into the bottle rack. Another of the sligs vaulted onto the bar, and pulled Arim back up by his feather. "Looks like we got ourselves a troublemaker here, guys..."
"We don't like troublemakers, Mr...?"
Arim spat out blood. "Arim. And YOU're the troublemakers!"
The sergeant laughed. "Us? I think yer wrong there. You see, the law's been changed a bit now. And WE're here to enforce it. Now do we get our beers or not?"
Arim looked at him, then spat in his eye. "You don't scare me."
The slig holding him glanced at the sergeant, who nodded. "Well, we gave yer a chance... Just some people aren't friendly ter their fellow citizens..." With that, he swung his rifle into Arim's stomach, making him bend double, at which he hit him on the back of the head, sending him tumbling to the floor. Jumping down from the bar, the slig helped another two to lift Arim back onto his feet.
"But then, we can be unfriendly too. Let's see how you like having no-one to be unfriendly to..."
And they dragged him from the Inn...
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Guns don't kill people, People kill people! Using Guns.
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