Ian looked around the bar, searching for any sign of life. He ignores a scurry in the corner and the glistening of a beady eye.
"Dang it, Dink must've built a better bar on that damned Port Smallwood of his. Took all the blighters with 'im."
He looks around the bar again and back blankly towards the wall behind the bar, as he begins chatting to himself.
"Well lads, you'll never know what I saw today. Runnin' 'round Dublin, keepin' out a keen eye fer mollies, an' I spot somethin' diff'rent! Spotted a bloody base oI did! 'Ere, 'ava look at her."
He lays two printouts of images on the bar and leaves them, glancing at them to his side briefly, pausing to remember.
"Got closer, had a look, an' it's somethin' called the "Goldern Coin". Don't have a bloody idea who says golden loike that, and I ought to bloody know!"
"Got to tell you, oI'm a little scared... Dublin ain't got many friendly people in it these days, an' that base is bound to be bad news..."
"BUT I'LL BE DAMNED IF I LET THOSE BASTARDS TAKE ANOTHER FIELD FROM US!"
He settles, returns to his lonely mumbling and slowly slumps over the bar as the lights automatically dim...