[b]"Oi lady! No charlatan interrupts me when I'm recruiting people to help me tackle the meanest abomination this town knows of. I want to help these people reclaim their land and use this fine establishment to hold a feast in mine and my hired help's honour in saving these people from said abomination, sign up with me or just save me time and effort by gunning yourself down and give Ol'Com that eyebot as a chew toy before it starts blurting out adverts for abraxo... That'll save us all from going insane really, not just me. Offer's still up to join me and get a sizeable slab of the meat from the hunt for anyone willing."[/b] The carver retorts to Victoria Rose's proposition, countering it with his own in a frustrated and impatient way, seeing competition. 

After putting the cap back on the scotch and putting it away the old man starts to examine a bullet he has on him in an almost apathetic expression of patience for anyone to volunteer, plotting where else to go if they all turn their metaphorical and possibly existing noses up to the deal.