[b]UoD 117 'Dustbowl', The Hog's Ass pub[/b]
The air in the famous, infamous, all around disliked and avoided by those with a better sense of things, Hog's Ass pub and grill (for those brave enough to try the food) was filled with tension, but it was hard to find on account of all the cigar smoke hanging in the air like grayish curtains some prick had decided to cover the ceiling with.  So if you wanted to see it, you needed to wave your hand a bit, and squint.  Most of the patrons were doing just this.  In fact, many of the regulars had resorted as far as putting out their smokes to help with the issue.  With the exception of a couple regulars who were asleep on the tables, everyone's eyes were on the big screen behind the bar.   

Apparently, there had been another attempt on Ethereals.  It was a failure.  Nobody was surprised about that.  It was one thing to protest against the big guys at the top of the UUC, and even threaten them, but it was something entirely different to try and raise your hand against them.  Honestly, most people, at least the ones whose minds still existed within the same reality their bodies were standing in, would rather try to slap magma or dip a finger into a white dwarf star than go after the Ethereals, because there was stupid, and then there was suicide. 

"Looks like another one is going to bite it!"  A man somewhere in the back muttered.  His words were met with a hissing shush like a bunch of snakes that were really into the movie and would gladly cover you in holes if you kept on distracting them from it.  "I mean, what's the point of even watching.  All this is going to do is.."  There was a pause, a sharp yelp of pain, and the thud of a body, larger than human but smaller than a Argentinosaurus huinculensis hitting the ground.

"One of you better pick that up before you leave."  The bartender, a large man with red suspenders and thick framed glasses mumbled.  "I don't care who did it.  Just don't leave him laying there to bleed all over my floor."

"I got him.  I got him."  A slurred voice mumbled from the back of the room.  "No need to."  More hiss of aggravation to hear the sentencing.    

"You know."  A red haired woman with green eyes said, after finishing the last of beer in her mug.  "If you put in some money and fixed up the sound.  There wouldn't be so many dead bodies every time the Ethereals did something."  

"Pff."  The bartender muttered.  "Spend a bunch of money to fix it up just to have my ass hats of regulars burn the place down again?  Likely chance."

"Meh."  Abigail, the last of Luficers, or possibly only the loan Luficer in this plain of reality, held up her glass for a refill. "If you say so."