"... Right, I've got some news ta tell ye boy-eh? Whit the 'eck?! What's 'appened 'ere?" M'guire's jaw opened and closed a few times, confusion stamped on his face.
"What is it now..."
His companion, a small, young and weedy looking fellow that none the less bore a resemblance to M'guire sighed.
Taking a quick look at what was going on, M'guire spotted his prey. A large and loud looking bloke wearing the supervisor jacket.
"Oi! You there! Git yer arse over 'ere! I want a word wi' ye."
Deciding to show his companion how things were done, he decided to pull no punches with this one. That and it was Christy's.
"I'm Duncan M'guire, Warden o' Newgate, an' this is junior constable M'guire. Whit's goin' on 'ere? Why ye takin' down Christy's?! I'll need yer name boy." He yelled at the man, levelling a cold glare.
Visibly shaking, and possibly on the verge of a lawsuit against the problems caused by the BPA on this site managed to whimper "Well... Er... You see... I only do what my boss tells me to do... It's not my fault. And my name? It's on the tag... Sir?"
"Well, I'll need ta see yer papers 'en, an' the demolition documents too."
"See, it's not all paperwork son" M'guire winked to the younger M'guire.
"They'll be no need John. I'll handle this." Came the voice of Christy as she came to the aid of the poor supervisor.
"Ah, Christy, whit's goin' on? Wha' they doin' to yer shop?"
"It's all yer own fault, business wasn't the same after you lot stopped coming. Had to close down... But good old Bruce has started a collection to get Christy's back up and running. Sure you couldn't help out?"
Against that sort of guilt, and that he missed his old favourite pastry shop, there was simply no choice. Standing up straight, and nudging the other M'guire to do the same "If 'at's the case, I'll be sure ta give 'old Bruce' a shout. Sure I've got som' credits that cin go to a giid cause. What about th' stock ye have left over, I'm sure I cin gi' it a giid home...."
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