You know you've come to the wrong cafe when the owner starts firing lightning spears at you when you ask for a muffin.
Cravis staggered back holding a cylinder that projected a blue shield like a viking of old, with the notable exemption of literally everything apart from the shield's shape. Needless to say, he looked rather exasperated.
"All I want is something to eat!"
the owner towered over him, seeming to be an orc or some such thing from some such strange universe.
"To buy ze vood you must prove yourzelf ztrong!"
Cravis narrowly dodged a tactical side-spear.
"How about I just pay for it?!"
The owner attacked more fiercely.
"You prove yourzelf ztrong, zen you pay for ze vood!"
Cravis started to have second thoughts eating in this particular establishment.
"Can I just not buy any food?"
The owner stopped, utterly confounded; he hadn't thought of that alternative.
"Vine."
Cravis sighed, deactivated his shield, and walked out of the shop at the spaceport.
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