The liquid that Lanny had been casually swilling around in his cup had a rather peculiar layer of film to it, that he tried hopelessly to ignore in the midst of his conversation at the bar that day. He knew that the drinks on this dingy outer-rim planet couldn't have been of the highest and most bodily-friendly swills ever created, but he knew that -something- had to be wrong with this one. He held a finger to the man he was previously having a seemingly-pointless chat with, and turned to the Barkeep, swishing the cup at him in an irritated manner. " 'Scuse me, uh...Barkeep. This drink supposed ta' look like you mixed it with Bacon Fat?"
The Barkeep grinned, exposing what little teeth he had left; and of those remaining that appeared to be already on their way out. "Whadd'ya expect for a dirthole bar like this out on th' rim, boy? you expectin' prime alliance suds in diamond glasses?" he gave a wheezing chuckle and returned to cleaning the glasses on the counter top with his murky-white rag. Lanny knew that this place was about as far as far could go in the 'Verse, and he should have known that the folks here had little to no support at all from the other colonies. Having murky swampwater specials should have been the first assumption upon entering this gorram mess in the first place. He huffed, and slapped a few credits from his jacket pocket onto the counter. "Thanks Barkeep. I'll be sure ta' bag up th' results of that grog so ye' can use it in yer' other drinks." he grinned wickedly. Unlike the barkeep's teeth, and their awkward wooden composure, Lanny's teeth were surprisingly clean for a Spacer. As he proceeded to turn for the door, the bouncer yelled to him. "Ansar, you got a call." Lanny blinked, and went to the terminal that was tucked away in the far crevices of the room. He thought to himself: "Aiya, even the gorram PHONE looks like it sank in mud for a week..." He bopped a few buttons on the terminal with his thumb, and an image began to flicker to life in front of him. As he had wanted, it was his next job opportunity. Unfortunately, the image he had wanted to view, was instead replaced by the usual blackened silhouette that all of the Fat-Cats and Head-Honchos of major businesses used to prevent any legal issues.
A few minutes had passed, followed by many exchanges of slang terms, cursing, and grunting before Lanny had begun to shuffle his way back to his ship. Apparently the details of this run were about as shallow as the layer of film on the rim of his former drink, and this made him a tad frustrated. Lanny never enjoyed any job with little details, as they usually lead to unforeseen circumstances, such as gunfights, ship chases, or overall mischief and mayhem. He tried to go over the details in his head. "Okay, so go to Eavesdown, pick up the shipment, and fly it over to..." he blinked and tapped the coordinates onto his ship's navigation. As he had expected, his destination had been set on a small moon in an area that was as close to nowhere as ever. Lanny sighed deeply, and slumped back into his chair with a sour look on his face. "Great...maybe if i'm lucky, they managed to figure out how to make swords and castles by now." He leaned back in to prep his bird to fly. "This all seems too weird. Too. Gorram. Weird."
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