Jack was literally scratching his head as the woman and her pet took off. [i]Temper that magic? Ciao? [b]Meathead?[/b][/i] It's possible he had said something wrong, but as he quickly hit rewind and played back the prior succession of incidents in his mind, Jack realised - at the time - he wasn't even aware of the bottle breaking, which he now was. But he still wasn't aware of the fact that something inside of his person caused the hearth fire to rage out of control for several seconds. [i]'Wait…'[/i] he called after her, but the word never made from his mind to his mouth [i]'did I do something here?'[/i] She continued in haste, her and her pet, towards the door as he lowered his hand and looked down at the shattered bottle, the frozen liquid, and realised that there was no one else nearby who could have possibly done that. The wacky lady and her pet surely didn’t, that is, if her reaction was genuine. From the broken mead bottle, his eyes lifted to the bartender who was now standing with back against the wall, looking pale as a corpse while his apron and trouser pants were growing with the spread of his own urine. “Oh jeez, I’m sorry, dude” Jack said with a sigh, and turned to pursue the girl. She hadn’t gotten far, only to the door, where she’d been stopped by what looked like, uh…. [i]Really? Why am I not surprised ancient Roman-style soldiers are involved in this?[/i] One of whom had a sword to her throat. [i]What was it with these people?”[/i] Jack took a stance fairly close, but not too close, able to hear and see the very informative conversation taking place. Apparently this girls name was Cheryl Lusby, wanted on two accounts of murder, one victim being no other than her own mother - the latter accusation being something that Cheryl adamantly objected to. Of course, as one would expect from a primitive race like this, such a crime warranted an execution. Curious, though, the entire scene played out like some cliché setup. He’d seen this sort of thing in more movies than he would care to recall. Really, they were horrible movies, so predictable. But they did help Jack realise that no, this girl wasn’t guilty of killing her own mother. If not for the reflection of B-grade Hollywood films, the tone in Cheryl’s voice was convincing enough. Hearing the truth in someone’s voice was something Jack knew well, too well in fact, since his occupation back home trained him well to recognize when someone was sincere, or not. This girl was innocent, at least of her mother’s murder. Regardless of the fact that she may have killed the other victim in question, which to be fair Jack didn’t really doubt at all, he couldn’t let her be executed. Not that he valued her life all that much, but as far as he could tell she was still the person most likely to help him. She seemed smarter than the others, less paranoid, perhaps? It was also possible that since she was a little bit crazy and misunderstood that she would be more likely to believe his story. That is, if he ever got a chance to share it…. And hey, truth be told, she was kinda cute. No sense in wasting a good looking woman over something so trivial as a murder. [i]Wait… never mind[/i] In any case, Jack had to try and do something, these guards didn’t seem like the type to mess around. They meant every word they were saying, and when it comes down to it, like everyone else, he was certain that Cheryl would much rather be a fugitive than be executed for the crime of killing her own mother. Problem was, Jack had no weapons at hand, and therefore no match for these brutes. He thought quickly for answers, something clever that might distract them and allow her to escape, but almost every thought he had came to nothing. Even if Cheryl did get away, he himself would have ended up being cornered in that smelly, smelly tavern. He was just about to give up when, as fate would have it, futuristic Earth technology stepped up in the form of Mc Hammer - As '[url=https://youtu.be/NyEE0qpfeig]U Can’t Touch This[/url]' suddenly belted out at full volume, Jack moved into unmissable view of the guards with the phone raised above his head, miming the words as his feet began moving over the floorboards in an awkward rapping beat to the music. The sight of the luminous screen of the phone, the watch, the unusual clothing, and Jack moving across the floor in dance, made Sancho step back in sudden dismay, causing him to stumbled and fall down the small flight of stairs to the street beyond. The guards in blue in waiting on the street also began to back-step in horror. The Patrons left in the tavern scrambled to take cover beneath their tables, and the poor old bartender had finally had enough and passed out with a thump to the floor. It was then when everyone around was, in one way or another, suspended in a state of shock, that Jack took a moment out from his fanciful exhibition to yell at the girl and her pet… lizard. “Run! Now!”