As he sat on his perch up near the tops of the buildings, he spied a couple of bangaa. They were looking for trouble, and he had an inkling that trouble would find them.

He saw what could only be described as an utterly bewildered-looking hume stumbling about. Uh-oh! He hurried to ground level hastily.

He couldn’t hear everything, but the words “But you’re a lizard” came floating over to him. He ran.

“Oi! Pick on someone your own size!” He’d said the line so often, it was essentially his catchphrase. He used it so often purely because he was a moogle.

“Moogle… isss thisss human with you?” Snarled the larger of the two.

“Yes, he is, and you’d do well to excuse his language. He’s from out of town and he hasn’t seen many bangaa.”

“I don’t believe you! We’ll have our compensation from this hume!”

A bullet popped into one of the bangaa’s eyes before resurfacing on the opposite side of his head. The other scarpered. The moogle hurried to the hume on the floor. “Sorry about that, the name’s Montblanc.”