The streets saw crime of the proportions that the Mongol hordes had never even considers. The entire world had been shook loose, and the sickest twisted parts of the human psyche had fallen to the streets of every major city.
I served a beer to an empty stool, and the beer levitated to mouth level and disappeared, before the invisible entity spoke with a slur, “I see why you gave it up now.”
I replied, “Oh it took the whole world to become a planet of looting raping psychotics for you to realize you were wasting your time.”
A large hair covered crime fighter, who went by the name of Yeti, spoke with a tibetan accent, which to the western ear is no different than a chinese accent, but when a man weighs five hundred pounds, sits on three bar stools, and is offended by being called chinese, you tend to say the nine foot tall beast has a tibetan accent. “So you rearry aren’t going to stop this”?
I drank a boiler maker and replied, “This planet turned its back on Meteor man, but it always needs a good bartender.”