The man with the goggles comes in, a cardi joint he's smoking, his leather outfit is covered in dust, as if he just came out of a pond of sand. He walks... so cocky, like he owns the place... His eyes scanning the people in the pub, scattered around, minding their business.
Staring close to the faces of every one of them, one by one, with no care to the replying looks they are giving him.
None of these are the people he's searching for, he leaves the bar, just as he came in... no words said, no shots fired, no women left untouched.
