Space Janitor looked up to see a mouth snarling at him.
“Speak now, are you a vagrant? Vagrants can beg outside. You’re on bended knee because of this? I don’t know if you are an imbecile or not. Look at my uniform, you recognise it, don’t you?” said the snarler.
Space Janitor said nothing. The snarler was in a dark blue outfit. He also wore black boots, and there was a belt going around the waist. It was adorned with various devices. A long metallic cylinder with a grip. It was mainly a baton, but you know, futuristic. Space janitor shrugged.
“I’m only just arrived,” said Space Janitor.
The snarler rolled beady eyes.
“If you have only arrived, then why are you fannying about on the ground. Would you not be better getting to a servo station and find out where you are supposed to go?” said the snarler.
“I don’t know, would that be your recommendation?” said Space Janitor.
“My recommendation to you? Report to the nearest euthaniser and be done with the whole sorry affair. My ForSec training has conditioned me to believe suicide is the cureall to most problems. However, I don’t think it’s the case for you, yet.”
Space Janitor nodded and got to his feet. Talking to the snarler had given the two a more inches of room. It felt like there was some respite from the constant barrage. Space Janitor wanted the conversation to go on for much longer so he could breathe a little steadier.
“Where am I to go?” asked Space Janitor. The snarler turned and thrust his arm out, pointing to a large computer terminal. In doing so, he struck a pedestrian in the face. The walker went down. Nose exploding a purple goo onto the pedestrian’s face.
“You bust my ink sack!” a muffled voice from under tentacles shouted.