They slunk toward the half-deserted bar (soon to be only a quarter deserted), dusty in the slanting evening sunlight, filtered through the filthy curtains at the less than pristine windows. Adopting the correct attitude of puissant but slightly diffident incoherence required in moments proceeding total mayhem they shucked off their rancid ponchos, revealing an array of deadly weapons...nostril amputators, rectal blasters, atom rifles, and blood boiling poont phasers shone metallic and menacing, like the plated bodies of Denebian giant wasps glistening in the sickly sunlight of Nedra, the star of Despair. It was only a few steps to the door, and they knew that he would be in there...waiting.

- LH