> > "I'm looking to buy some fresh talent," Matt said, aiming the weapon down
> toward
> > the floor but not putting it away. "I heard this was the place for that."
> >
> "We should give a damn because...." came a harsh reply.
> >
> > "I run an establishment that caters to, shall we say, discerning
> clientele, who pay
> > well for discretion. Sorry for the rude entrance and all, but Bubba here
> didn't
> > look like he was going to let me in, even if I *had* showed him my credit
> vouchers."
>
> "What kind of merchandise are you looking to provide? We can supply
> all sorts of toys and playthings." replied another, obviously looking for a
> good deal to add to their side action..
> The leader just stepped in front of the feet so they were less visable...
>
> "Folks with pointy ears draw big business," he said. "And, of course, humans of all
>shapes and sizes."
>
>
> "Interesting. We happen to have some, and can get more. Why do you want them?
> Who do you supply? Who do you work for?" replied the man, getting a touch
>aggitated. He obviously thought that this was a tad too easy, and was taking a
>decidedly more cautious, and agressive, tone. His 'lackies' took note and
>repositioned slightly to take better advantage of their numbers.
The dog seemed to take only a slightly less placid interest in the
movement to their left.
>From behind the bar, t'Llhweiir exchanged glances with Fox and tried to be
reassuring. She, too, had been surprised by Brennan's approach. He was
far from an amateur and had lived too long to not be anything but
calculating in his actions. This would be interesting.
She concentrated on getting a grip on the hilt of the knife in her boot.
-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-=*=-
. | * Randye Jones
. |) . http://www.atouchofclassics.com
. /| . [EMAIL PROTECTED]
. ( | ) .
. . | . "Hate is not a family value."
