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Narrator:By the 31st century the archetype is complete. He stands like a badly overweight robin hood between the little man and the establishment, while at the same time standing like a poorly attended prince john between the people and their money. He is the union boss, and he is feared.
Union Boss:Coupla my boys came by yesterday to inspect your equipment. They never checked back in with me.
Breya:Inspection? It didn't happen yesterday. We got all our inpsections and permits in order before i even showed up here.
Union Boss:If you wanna play dumb with me, I can kosh you on the head for a few I.Q. points to make the game more realistic.
Breya:Whichever hand you choose to use for 'Koshing' is likely to end up cauterized at your shoulder. Just so you know.
Union Boss:So you got some fancy hardware, and you wanna send me a message? You gotta play by the rules, lady. You take out my boys, you gotta say so.
Union Boss:Like, you send me some fish on a pillow, it says 'they sleep with the fishes.' meanin' you dumped 'em in the ocean. We gotta communicate.
Schlock:Have a nice, hot, tasty chupaqueso.
Union Boss:You buried my boys under the Tacobufa?
Breya:Actually, Schlock had a chupaqueso for lunch, after he finished your boys off.
Union Boss:Oh, so you wanna play rough and dirty, do you?
Union Boss:Listen up. I own every bailbondsman, Bouncer, Stevedore, and personal trainer in the area. These are some big boys who get bored sometimes, and want some rough play, if you know what I mean.
Breya:Oh, I know exactly how boys can be. I'm a mercenary admiral, and i've got a company full of testosterone factories looking to earn some extra money roughhousing, my guys come with full power armor, personal artillery, and air support. What do your boys play with?
Union Boss:Errr... I... uh, maybe...
Breya:Have a Chupaqueso on your way out. It's on me, okay?