Creeth: You poor, naive mercenaries. We never intended to actually pay you. And don't even think about threatening me. I made sure you were disarmed before allowing you up. Guards, escort them out. If they give you any trouble, escort them out an airlock.
SFX: (Schlock de-concealing weapons) BELCH PTOOOIE
Brad: There's saliva on my gauss-pistol.
Creeth: Will small, unmarked bills be okay?