you realize you Teed that right up, don't you?
I mean all I have to do is have a tourist run screaming past Sgt. Schmoogs, and they yell - Well you get it.
Crap, we could even play that stupid acting game with it.
Despair - Tourist has seen family eaten, is begging. "HELP US YOU -
Rage - Schmoogs has dropped his ice cream cone on the boot of some rich fop. "Oh you -
Comradery - Schmoogs has just helped his friend file his space taxes. "You know, you're a good friend schmoogs, Too bad you're also -
Desire - The Twilek (or whatever star wars alien chick you like, Twilek is just the obvious one) Pop star locked eyes with the attractively bald, technically unemployed hero. "Get over here you -
Crap, now I'm tempted to drop them all in Chpt. 6.
GAH, now I have a whole bless'ed scene for the ice cream parlor.
Chpt 6. - A phantom hunger -
Sgt schmoogs stared down at the corpses of the security guards and shrugged. He pulled out the sack with the dollar sign on it he had brought for the payoff, and began filling it with the purple electric space onions. No sense in carrying around a hard case when he had the sack. He did wonder at the symbol on the bag though? He'd got it off a rather strange bank robber a while back. Waste not, want not, he remembered.
Sauntering from the "docks" area of the resort, he noted the screaming, and smelled the fire. It made him hungry, so he stepped into the retail sector, went through the <Okay, I'm drawing a brain fart here, the weird little air conditioned room at fast food joints you have to walk through>
and walked into the sealed food court. No one in the food court had a clue about the rampage outside, as they were all on their space phones, updating their insta-gram with pictures of the food they would never eat <IT'S HOLOGRAMS NOW>. They also bitched on Space Yelp about the automated service.
Schmoogs strolled up to an ice cream counter, and held up a purple electric onion. "What can I get for one a these things"
"Oh hello valued customer, welcome to General Hoth's confectionary. May I interest you in a membership card?"
Schmoogs grumbled, shifted his feet a bit, then punched a Holo-com number into the droids face.
"Welcome back LANDO CALRISSIAN, how may I serve you?"
"I asked," schmoogs grumbled "What can I get for one a these?". "Oh my" the droid simpered, "A single Jogan fruit would net you a considerable amount of store credit!"
"Whatever" said Schmoogs, looks like he'd have to hit the rest of the mall to find out what the damn things were worth. "Do that, and I'll get a large cone of <Star wars flavor>.
Shortly, he had his ice cream. He turned, and suffered the first personal tragedy of his day. The cone fell, directly onto the boot of some foppish fop.
Schmoogs was LIVID, he really loved <Star wars flavor>
"Watch it you piece of poo fool, when my father hears of this-" Schmoogs stopped him, with the E-11 he'd liberated from one of the dead guards. He then blasted the service droid as well.
"Was a boring conversation anyway"
