Drinking Buddies...of sorts

Wallbreaker leaned heavily on the bar while perching precariously on his stool. “Man, this game has changed.” He drank from his stein of Guinness Extra Stout as though he was sick of it and wanted to see it gone.

Professor Fortune was slumming it with a pint of Red Tail. “It’s true,” he said, nodding somberly. “You never would have seen something like that five years ago.”

“It’s not that the dinosaur was a balloon,” Wallbreaker continued. “I’m not a traditionalist when it comes to robo-dinosaurs. They can be balloons, and I’m fine with that.”

“It was a zeppelin,” Professor Fortune pointed out.

“Zeppelin, then. That’s not my point. And it’s not the nuclear power, either. I’m not a damn hippie. No offense.”

“None taken,” said Professor Fortune, who had never thought of himself as a hippie.

“It’s that… there used to be standards, man. Whatstheword… principles.” Wallbreaker lifted his mask long enough to drain his stein. “No guardrails? That’s just dangerous.”

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