The sound of wheels on poorly-maintained floors echoed through the building, half-visible figures moving along at breakneck speeds. Spotlights roved along the floor as fog crept in from the sides of the rollerblading arena, and a disco ball began to spin and cast small, dim patches of light all throughout the room
The spotlights centered on a man who stood in the center of the arena, dressed in a flamenco shirt and bicycle shorts. He was chrome from the thighs down at the very least, his feet replaced with top-of-the-line blades. Balanced on his nose sat gaudy sunglasses commonly known as Sights, so called because they were used to aim skull guns by superimposing a crosshair upon the user's vision.
"I, the most excellent Ricardo Ramirez, do no know of this ENKI that you speak of-", The man adjusted his Sights and pointed an accusatory finger at the party, "-but what I, the most excellent Ricardo Ramirez, do know... is that [b]you[/b] are on [b]our[/b] turf!"