Al arrived at Gullivers Tavern shortly, he nervously approached the entrance, he had been warned by the establishment that he was not welcome inside, his reputation had preceded him. Entrance had been forbid, but due to the intense heat and it being the middle of the working week, the tavern was unusually quiet and had a distinct lack of Badgers on the door. Lost in his own thoughts, and with wild annoyance he stumbled on the steps leading into the building.
The interior was not at all what he expected. It looked damp. It wasn't damp, in this summer heat it couldn't possible be damp. In this intense summer heat, water was barely damp. As he walked in, he felt like the walls were closing in around him. The main feature of this bar, much like any bar, was the bar itself. Dank and uninviting, the patrons sat huddled on tired chairs layed out equidistant along the entire length of the service counter, as much a part of the decor as the walls and ceiling. Al wasn't sure if the people who were sat there were parts of the stools, or if the stools were part of the people.
Uninspired adverts echoed across the dancefloor, inviting people to partake in the comsumption of produce. "Eat me" and "Drink Me" begged the four colour slogans, and although the products in question hadn't been manufactured for quite some years now, Al was sure that a few would remain tucked away behind the dusty bar somewhere.

Over in a corner, Al noticed a light-source eminating from an old arcade game, an arcade game so old its name had lost all meaning. Was it a clone of a popular series, or an original, buried in time by a slew of second-rate cash-ins. No-one knew. As Al approached he observed the game reach its inciting incident, as a whole new world of opportunities and choices opened up in front of the player.
The player was Usagi.

Like most stereotypes, the popular conception of Japanese people being really good at video games was unfounded in this case, as it soon became apparent that Usagi was quite, quite arse.
"Hello Usagi." said Al, as his mark pushed in another coin to extend play.
"Oh, hello Al" remarked Usagi, rather unremarkably.
"Usagi, you have owed me a substainstial sum of cash for an entire quarter of the Suns rotation now. I must insist you honour your debt to me."
Usagi turned away from his video game and stood poised like a snake ready to pounce, before breaking his own grim exterior with a smile.
"Al. Al, Al Al Al. Its been too long. Let me buy you a drink".

We've all been in a situation like this. Where our better nature tells us something is not quite right, or that we are in a place where we shouldn't be. The signs are different for everyone. for some people, the hairs on the back of their neck stand up. For other, a sense of forbodding or claustraophobia. For Al, the sympton was always an itchy throat and an itching of his boil. Like most people in this situation, Al ignored the warning signs and carried on ahead, undettered from his path.

As Al and Usagi took a place at a table which looked as sticky as Al's clothes felt, Usagi explained the situation. Al uncomfortably swilled his drink around in the glass, his vodka and coke a far cry from his usual diet of unpasturized milk.
"It's like this" explained Usagi "the last batch you sell me. Was no good. No good."
Al had no way of knowing if this was the truth or not "Pardon me, but could you elaborate?"
"Sure. I elaborate. The drugs were no good. They no do job I buy them for."
"Well did you use them all?" he asked.
"I..." he paused, "I use most. Yes".
"Well I must question why you continually used the product if they failed to fulfill the demands of which you bought them for?"
A tense silence filled the air. Usagi scoured the thin crowd of patrons and decided that no-one care about what he was about to do. If they even noticed.
With alarming speed, Usagi almost flew across the table at Al. Before Al could react, his head was being held in a vice grip between chest and forearm, and he felt something being forced into his mouth, as a hand then covered his mouth and nose. In his panic, Al swallowed something and as he started to lose consciousness, he noticed with a mild curiosity an itching in his throat.

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