Ironically, they blended right in once they were challenged by a huge brute, and the hairier of the men brought out a laser sword and cut the arm off their attacker. The arm smoked slightly on the floor, and its former owner shrieked. We stopped playing, of course. But then Wuher glared at us and we hastily started up again. So we were supposed to just keep on with the music while people were losing limbs? And here I’d thought this place was better than Jabba’s. (Say what you will about the slug, he didn’t mind if we were startled out of tune when he murdered someone.)
