"Allo allo allo! S'been too long it 'as since we toddled out to this foine establishmenk, aye Mr. Hughes?"
"Ooh arr, Mr. Grubber."
Mr. Hughes and Mr. Grubber were a little too 'clockwork' to be truly terrifying, but they were intimidating enough to run a nice little protection racket in a hole like OB-City. With matching black bowler hats, big black coats, big ring-covered hands and shark smiles, Felicity wasn't sure if they were twins, clones, or what besides tedious trouble.
"Hello boys," she said meekly, "the usual?"
"Ah Mizz Fleece, you reads us as open books, dursn't she Mr. Hughes?"
"Ooh arr, Mr. Grubber. Cred transfer if you please, and I think a nice double patty for me, extra pickles."
"This is where me and Mr. Hughes must differ, alas. I've never been fond of the ol' gherkin, even if its as fake as St. Michael's teats..."
"BURP! Excuse me."
Sally started to tuck into another burger from her tray, blithely ignoring the shakedown happening a few feet away.
"Uhm. Hmm. Usurally it's ghostly nowabouts. Isn't that so, Mr. Hughes?"
"Ooh arr. Like the grave, Mr. Grubber."
Mr. Grubber sidled up to Sally's regular booth and slid into the opposite seat.
"Allo luv. Dinner and a show?" He took a big bite out of one of the burgers with his big white teeth and tossed the remainder onto the floor.
Sally glared daggers at him, going rigid as she slowly chewed and swallowed.
"That was my burger," she said icily, "and I demand you buy me another."
Mr. Grubber and Mr. Hughes shared a hearty chuckle, while Felicity desperately mouthed 'Get the duck OUT of here' and jabbed her fat finger at the door; Sally wasn't good at reading lips. Mr. Grubber pretended to wipe a tear from his eye onto the floor with an obnoxiously theatrical gesture.
"Pardon us, mizz, me an' my business associate seems to 'ave ad a case of the funnies. Of COURSE I'll buy you a burger, dear, once you give me that smart band to pay for it."
"I refuse." Sally stubbornly clenched her fists under the table. Felicity almost shouted at her, but managed to bite down on her tongue. How stupid can someone actually be?
"Now this is a hard case, Mr. Hughes. I would shudder if your capable self wasn't here to back me up. A hard case, though she is rather soft around the middle."
Mr. Grubber stood up with a sigh, a pistol in his hand pointed right at Sally's forehead. Sally looked up at the black speck of a barrel that seemed to grow into a wide tunnel before her gaze.
"Now mizz," Mr. Grubber said softly, "'and it over."
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