[color=82ca9d]"...Thing is, though, you can't really compare the two. I like Swoop Biking 'cause I like two things: Speed and Cities. Podracing doesn't really do either of those. Pods are for tricky manuevers and expert navigation; you need ace reflexes there, too, but it's a lot more technical. You kinda have to know the course if you wanna survive. And they're much better suited to cross-country, anyway. You can use a Swoop cross-country, too, but it just ain't the same flying across fields. I guess it's just something that a true Swoop Biker would understand like it was in their heart, if you'll forgive the pukeworthy phrasing. It's that element of randomness, of spontaneity, riding by the seat of your pants, feeling like you're at the mercy of fate itself in the midst of the urban sprawl, a place where fate has all but died... it makes you feel like you're on top of the entire galaxy. It's hard to explain to someone who's not a fan. I guess Podracing tends to make more sense to the casual observer; 'hooray, you survived!' That's not bad, but it doesn't appeal to me. With Podracing, it feels like it's a means to an end. I don't think any of the people at the Boonta Eve Classic were enjoying the thrill of what they were doing, except maybe Ody Mandrell. Gasgano went on and on about how he could use his superior technical skill to win. Sebulba just used to demolish the competition for the sake of winning. But I never get that from a Swoop Race. It ain't universal, of course, but there it seems like the ride itself is its own reward. The only losers are the people who play it safe."[/color]

Dyno stopped to catch his breath a little after uttering that monster of a spontaneous lecture on why he preferred Swoop Biking to Podracing. It was the third call he'd gotten since Noon, but none of them had quite caught his attention like this one. It was a welcome relief, since the one before seemed like some kind of inept prank by a barely-pubescent human boy. He was told to report to his mother.

"...Huh." The man who had asked the Swoop Vs Pod question responded after a noticeable pause, clearly attempting to process what Dyno had said. "...Yeah, that sounded way more complicated than I thought, heheh. Most o' that just slammed against my 'ead."

[color=82ca9d]"Well, y'know, you said you were a die-hard Podracing fan, and that's fine. I can already tell you're itching to lecture me on how wrong I am, but, well... I think we'll just have to agree to disagree. It's something this neighbourhood could do more of, if you ask me."[/color] Dyno said earnestly, making sure to straighten up in his seat. It was another one of his 'serious' statements, which tended to necessitate that.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." The man on the other side conceded. "See ya, Dyno. My brother loves this show, and he says to keep them boom-beats comin' at us!"

Dyno soon re-entered his enthusiasm zone. [color=82ca9d]"Oh, don't you worry, I will! Thanks for calling in. Oh, how I do love to engage in what I believe are called 'circlejerks' with fellow SPEED enthusiasts, haha! I'll be taking a break in a moment for some much-needed nourishment, but the call-taking is far from over. Keep 'em coming until 2, people!"[/color]

Dyno glanced down at his receiving board, noticing another incoming call. As soon as he saw that indicator on the terminal, he'd pre-emptively placed his now-sufficiently-clipped claw under the receiving switch before he even knew it.

[color=82ca9d]"And would you look at that, I have another one already. Radio 'Lectric 30, you're on the air! What's your story?"[/color]

"Oh, already? Th-that was quick." A slightly nervous-sounding young woman responded over the line, after another pause. Took her by surprise, it seems. "Uh... hi. I'd rather not say who I am, this is kinda... fragile."

[color=82ca9d]"I understand."[/color] Dyno sat up again. Already sounded like it was going to be serious. He got so many of these, he often wondered if he should have studied Psychiatry while he was on Alderaan that one time.

"Alright. See... I'm in trouble. Well... okay, that's a lie. My brother's in trouble. He's been going to this place called 'The Pit'; have you heard of it?"

'The Pit' immediately conjured up some troublesome images in the Tiss'Shar's mind. Images of bloodshed and exploitation. Nothing good ever came out of that hellhole, that much he knew.

[color=82ca9d]"I have. Never really saw the appeal in injuring yourself in front of a crowd, really. What kind of people would find that amusing enough to warrant a whole establishment, anyway? Oh wait."[/color] He said sarcastically, attempting to inject some degree of humour into the situation. A futile effort, probably, but if nothing else it might tide over those listeners who objected to his feelgood speeches.

"Yeah, I know what you're gettin' at." The woman said, followed by some weak laughter that barely held back tears. "See... he's been real frustrated lately. At everything. I'm really worried that the gangs are gonna try and recruit him. I think I've seen him hanging out with the Pure Hands... it's weird, he doesn't even hate aliens."

Dyno's claws found themselves gripping the edge of his seat, leaving yet more scratches. He even subconsciously bared his teeth upon the mention of that group. But he soon gathered his thoughts properly; a process that mercifully took shorter with each passing year. Hopefully nothing would happen to reset the counter to zero.

[color=82ca9d]"How old is he, if you don't mind me asking?"[/color]

"Well... he's only 15."

Dyno was about to raise his voice, say something along the lines of 'those dirty bastards' or maybe even utter one of Teema's favourite slurs, but he knew that wouldn't help her situation. She'd probably gotten her fill of that already. What she needed was calm reassurance. Sadly he didn't know the professional technique, but as far as 3030 was concerned, he figured he was top therapist, or something. Hence all the therapy calls.

[color=82ca9d]"Ooh... well, that'd sadly make sense. He still hasn't gotten past the impressionable stage yet. Honestly, I don't really know what to say. I'm not an expert with kids. I'd just sit him down, have a long chat with him about this. You need to let him know that the attitude of these Pure Hand fierfeks is not the cure to his frustration... it's a poison, to all people. Ask him, does he really want to become part of the problem? Unload his frustrations on other people, enable the vicious cycle of fierfekkery to continue? And let me put it like this... when I was a kid, I never knew my parents. I never even met another one o' my kind. I was raised by a karkin' one-percenter Swoop Club. Yet I wasn't lost. I found an honest meaning, a way in which I could give something to the galaxy without having to leech that something off someone else before. If there was hope for me, there's certainly hope for your brother. It's not much, but... I hope it helps."[/color]

"Heh... thanks, Dyno. At least you tried."

[color=82ca9d]"Always happy to be of service. Good luck."[/color]
[b]---------------
Later...
---------------[/b]

Once Dyno had finished that conversation, he decided that he needed some time to think over his nourishment; thus, he left a couple of songs on before he'd continue taking calls, all of it adding up to about ten-to-fifteen minutes of breaktime.

The path to his apartment definitely took a rather circuitous path through the building. It went down some stairs and into what seemed to be a maintenance hallway full of steam valves and cabling. As was to be expected, it became blisteringly hot once he entered, prompting him to fidget in his fur-lined vest (perhaps a knee-jerk reaction, since he was cold-blooded and all) and move a bit faster to the door on the other side. This lead him to the public bathroom access corridor. Finally, he got past those and entered Teema's Diner.

It was still the tail-end of lunchtime by the time he had entered, and as such, the classically-arranged eatery was still relatively busy. Teema's reputation definitely preceded her, as evidenced by the higher-than-average population of Aliens buying from her. The number of humans at the Diner could be counted on one hand, all of whom were likely new to the area or simply came in every day purely to spite her.

Dyno was not especially concerned; this was a daily occurrence. All he did was wander over to the nearest space on the front counter and leaned up against, resting an arm on the side and smirking, announcing his presence to the establishment's owner in a way that never failed to annoy her.

However, at the time, the owner of the establishment was occupied on the other side of the counter, talking quite loudly to one of the few human customers, a grubby overweight mechanic from the looks of things.

[color=6ecff6]"Look, peaches, d'you want the bloody Binka Fruit Biscuit or what? 'Cause they add money to the price. That tends to 'appen when you add things to yer order. Or did you think I was jus' withholdin' them outta spite?"[/color] She said; though dwarfed by the man (even after she stood on top of a wheeled stool to make herself actually visible to the customers), she was clearly the one in control here.

"Alright, alright, I get it!" The man surrendered, leaning back somewhat dangerously in his stool. Meanwhile, Teema glanced to her side and noticed Dyno's presence. Thus, turned towards him and propelled her wheeled stool over to him by pushing herself along the side bar.

[color=6ecff6]"I'm sure y'do. Bloody 'umans..."[/color] She could be heard muttering to herself as she approached her upstairs neighbour. She soon made her appearance apparent. Unusually for a Mrlssti of her age, she had chosen to conceal her luscious blue Peacock-like head-feathers undearneath her trademark checkered-flag bandana; though it was probably from the heat of the kitchen behind her, in which her other employees were busy slaving away. She was also wearing a black leather jacket with a diagonal orange-and-yellow stripe down the middle, which elicited an eyebrow-raising from Dyno. He'd never seen her wearing that before.

[color=6ecff6]"...Eeeeh, it's my favourite DJ-who-works-above-my-place!"[/color] She said faux-excitedly, obviously aiming to begin their usual 'annoyance wars'. [color=6ecff6]"Will you be wantin' a Bantha Kabob, or are you gonna be adventurous and go for a Bantha Kabob with Light Seasoning? Frankly, I doubt it."[/color]

[color=82ca9d]"Actually, I'll take the non-adventurous option today. With some Ardees."[/color] Dyno said, exaggeratedly glancing at his claws and rubbing them together in the smuggest manner possible.

[color=6ecff6]"Ah, nice. I was worried you'd force us both out of our cozy little comfort zones. You smug lil' bastard."[/color] She joked in a non-joking voice, before turning away to go about her duties. It was then that Dyno dropped his irritating act when he managed to catch the back of Teema's new jacket. It had the logo of a stylised, electrified Dinko's face on the back, with the words 'ELECTRIC DINKOS S.C. [1%] 3030 CHAPTER' written above and below it. It was eye-wideningly familiar.

[color=82ca9d]"Hey, wait... where'd you get that jacket?"[/color] He asked, calling out to her.

Teema swivelled back around, her own eye-widening suggesting that she'd forgotten something. [color=6ecff6]"Ah yeah, I forgot to tell ya; one of your 'Lectric Dinko mates came over 'ere earlier, said 'e 'ad somethin' to ask o' yer. But then we got a lil' sidetracked an'... well, for a Swoop Biker, 'e 'ad charm. Said 'e'd take me out ta dinner, at the Rose, p'rapps. 'Sides, the Yarkora are real bloody secretive, so if I learn nothin' else, it'd be nice to learn what they got goin' on down in the undercarriage."[/color]

[color=82ca9d]"What? Are you suggesting I don't have any charm?"[/color] Dyno asked with restrained chuckles, making sure to focus on the wrong part of her questionable statement.

[color=6ecff6]"Yeah, dat's exactly what I'm suggestin'. All the charm of a diseased Rancor turd."[/color] Teema responded, in her usual 'be careful what you ask for' manner.

"Uhhh... excuse me, miss?" The mechanic from earlier attempted to literally stick his head over into their business in an attempt to remind Teema of her duties. Which looked mighty uncomfortable considering he was still a whole counter away from them.

[color=6ecff6]"Oi, be bloody patient! Things may be different up in glorious Palpatine-topia, but 'ere y'aint gonna get any special privileges just 'cause yer a peach-monkey!"[/color] Teema yelled back at him, eliciting a mighty flinch which almost made the poor man fall onto his backside.

[color=82ca9d]"Never mind that, what was this message?"[/color] Dyno asked, leaning forward over the counter.

[color=6ecff6]"Oh, right. Yeah, he was basically sayin' that Gorro's been less forgivin' of people who're late on their protection money, so 'e's been sendin' some bloody whackjob of a 'enchman to take care o' things. Some Ganky-Gank called Zolo, or somethin' 'tough guy'-soundin'."[/color]

[color=82ca9d]"Aren't you worried about that?"[/color] Dyno scratched the top of his head, only slightly worried about his own predicament thanks to Teema's description of this Zolo person. Though he realised that he probably should be more worried; Gorro was not one to be trifled with, after all, and he'd been operating under the assumption that he'd want his pay in a few weeks. Not now.

[color=6ecff6]"Nah, I got my protection money all set. It's you 'e was worried about. But 'e said they'd be willin' to pay it off for ya if you DJ'd at their next 'recruitment drive' at The Pit bar."[/color]

Dyno sighed to himself and looked at the greasy tiled floor below. Fancy that. He had just mentioned the Pit on the radio, it reminded him of how it was a terrible place filled with misery, and now circumstances had conspired to throw him there. Then again, he thought to himself, he'd much rather that young aliens be motivated to join what was essentially a hobby club with minor criminal elements and a strict code of conduct, and not these massive all-devouring monsters that preyed on normal people.

[color=82ca9d]"Gah... just my luck. But if it'll get people away from the Gangs, then, well..."[/color]

"Hey, birdfeed! Are you gonna serve me or what?" The mechanic yelled over again, his patience having evidently been worn thin by Teema's priorities.

[color=6ecff6]"The bloody 'ell you just call me, Reek's-left-bollock-for-a-face?!"[/color] Teema bellowed back at him, at such volume so as to make her voice grate in a birdlike fashion.

"Ah, kark this." The mechanic shouted to the air at no-one in particular, throwing his arms up there with the words. He slid off of his stool with an audible thud and headed to the door. "If this is how you treat all your human customers, I'm taking my business elsewhere. Birdfeed."

[color=6ecff6]"Good bloody riddance!"[/color] Teema forcefully said to herself, loudly but not loud enough to be heard over the chatting of the other diner-goers, unlike the earlier bellow. She turned back to Dyno. [color=6ecff6]"'Umans, 'ey? So bloody used to bein' on top o' the world, they can't handle a measly five Glit-bitin'-minute wait! Anyway, I gotcha greasy radio-breakin' snack set comin' up. Good job y'ain't a DJ or else y'might break a radio with 'em."[/color]