Bark. Bark. Woof. Woof. (open)

[Roddy Two]

A yellow-furred blur skittered between the legs of a patron as they entered the B&G...

<font size=-2>pitterpatterpitterpatterpitterpatterpitterpatter.. ...</font>

Its little toenails clinked on the tile flooring as it weaved between tables in an aimless pattern. Suddenly, it locked onto the sound of clinking silverware on dishes, big eyes swiveling to stare down half a chicken breast as it fell from a nearby table.

OOO BOOY!

It dashed forward, skittering and rolling until it reached the fallen piece of poultry, which was snapped up before it could hardly make a greasy spot on the tile. The yellow dog shook its prize vigorously, wolfing it down as it rolled on the floor a few times. The chicken was about a quarter of the dog's size, yet it seemed more than capable of putting it away. After doing so...the dog made a whurfling sound, sat back on its haunches, and looked upward at the generous table and its patrons, with a look that suggested possible mental defects.

urm.....woof. woof. woof-GIIVE MEE A STEEK-woof.

The "dog" blinked, cocked its head sideways, and lolled its tongue out the side of its mouth, as innocently as it could manage. Nobody seemed to notice the dog speak. After all...dogs couldn't speak, could they? Yet the subliminal message stuck.

<center><img src=http://www.bama.ua.edu/~hicks020/pics/roddyhid.jpg></center>

[Sanis Prent]

(I'd thought about a leash, but it would only be a justifiable way to smoke ten credits on glittery-eyed optimism. The thing chewed beer cans like they were tortillas. A leash would last all of two seconds, which is one second shorter than the time it took to think about how dumb the idea was to begin with. I just watched Roddy rampage about. Fortunately the Bar and Grill was full of self-absorbed types that just might not notice a half-sentient, force-inhibiting dogmonster...and if they did, they'd be just as likely to attribute what they saw to...El Nino...which is Corellian for...The Nino, or...something.

I took a seat at any rate....far away from people who might put two and two together, and close enough to side exits, should the need arise. A pint of dark tided me over. It would take twice that to tide Roddy. I had the waiter leave his share across from me. With a click and a whistle, I looked at the little fiend, which was conveniently disguised in a more dog-like costume. Six-legged blue freaks of nature with as many gene splicings as hot dogs had mystery meats, weren't exactly run of the mill in the pet world. The dogsuit wasn't top notch...hell, if you bothered to pay attention, you could see seam lines and a zipper, but it was better than the alternative.)

Here....um....Spot. Here boy.

(I spotted her from across the room. Zenda Von Kapp...the Repulsorlift Industry Baroness of Sorosuub, and the only non-Sullustan to achieve such a lofty position. She had enough curves to knock off mountain climbers, which was probably a testament to how quickly Mr. Von Kapp seemed to expire. At any rate, she'd suddenly gotten a matrimonial payraise of like...a gazillion percent. It showed. Things glittered on her fingers, neck, and down the crevices of her mons that would suit a death star's laser, much less a decent jeweler's fetish. No, it wasn't an issue of money for me...but what did mountain climbers say? Climb it, because its there. Seem's I'm one of those addicted workaholics at times.

I glanced back to Roddy, who was scooting across the floor, dragging his backside along with him, as if he willed his hind legs to no longer work.)

Spot! Here!

(Damn...stupid...um....thing. What a basketcase, to hinge this entire job on a chromosomal screwball)

[Turcyn Rorke]

“Quite the lit’el devil ya got there, mate.”

A voice regarded Prent, loaded heavily with a cockney accent, and the aroma of cheap whiskey and acrid tobacco to boot. Behind the thick cloak of cigarette smoke was the face of Solev Rorke, a low-calibre criminal and smuggler with a niche for trouble and a fetish with cheap cigars.

[Roddy Two]

Roddy looked to Sanis for a moment, drooled on himself, and looked away, back to the table full of generous portions.

woof woof ANND SOOM AALE TOOO arf

[Wei Wu Wei]

Wei tried using the Force to make the smoke stay around the strange man's head, but to no avail. Wei gagged and choked.

"Can;t breathe," he rasped. "Put that thing out, please. No smoking in the Bar and Grill."

Wei knew that Marcus had a tendency to smoke in the Bar and Grill too, despite the no smoking rule. He needed to set a better example. Wei coughed and moved to go outside and aquire some fresher air.

[Sanis Prent]

Oh he isn't mine...

(I looked to the smoking man, laughing)

...found him following me around a few times, but he's definitely not one of mine. Looks like a bit of a mix.

(I scratched my head)

Mix of what, I can't say though.

[Turcyn Rorke]

“A bit of 'ell and a 'orny Cizerack if ya were ta' ask me.”

Taking a final drag from his cigarette, Solev replied before putting out his smoke as requested. He continued to watch the hell spawn bounce around Yog's, picking up his whiskey in exchange for his now missing tobacco.

[Wei Wu Wei]

Wei coughed a little more, but his breathing was getting better as the smoke dissipated.

"Thanks much," Wei said, extending his hand to shake with the stranger. "My name is Wei Wu Wei."

"Are you sure that's not your dog, Mr. Prent?" Wei said with a mischievous smile. "If it isn;t, then ehy not adopt it, since it follows you around so much. No doubt someone would think it would be cute for a millionaire to have a puppy-dog follow him around."

Wei thought some more. "Or you could give it to a little kid who has always wanted a puppy...or....." Wei was running out of ideas. "Or...."

[Zela Anos]

"Or a flea ridden fake!"

She was sitting at a table only a few feet from where Sanis, Wei and the smoking dude are, a large dog sitting at her bare feet, her attention was more or less on the funny dog.

"If that;s a dog then I'm the Queen of Corusant." She said while reaching down to pet her dog.