Arachne

Well then, you're off to the Fahrenheit City Pub!

...but that's on the other side of the city, the same side as the meat-packing factory that Pilaf works at.

Oh well, you like exercise anyway. At least you do ever since you met Arachne as a kid, which is convenient. She got you to love exercise, so you're not complaining about the time it will take to walk to where she works.

You end up jogging, however, because you can almost hear Arachne's loud, boisterous voice encouraging you to go faster.

You end up wishing you hadn't, though. The first thing you notice is the condition of the Pub. The outside is a mess; it reeks of **** because nobody's cleaned up the stains drunks have left. As for the walls, to be perfectly honest, you can't see the wisdom of painting them the color of VOMIT.

No...wait a moment...the walls aren't the COLOR of vomit, they're COVERED in vomit! The door seems to be loose from its hinges as well, adding to the general atmosphere of entropy and carelessness.

The icing on the cake, however, is what you hear from inside. Considering that you are reminded of an old Jean Claude Van Damme action movie by what you're hearing, it's a safe bet that there is currently a drunken brawl going on.

You'd win the bet, as you suddenly duck to avoid a table that's been thrown out the door. You marvel at the fact that the table is made out of mahogany...mahogany? That must mean the owner of the Pub is financially well off. A shame he couldn't share it with the rest of this city.

Again you are distracted from your thoughts as two drunks are forcibly thrown out the door. This time you are prepared in advance as you sidestep to the right. Out comes Arachne, even buffer than last you saw her, wearing a bouncer's uniform and looking royally ticked off.

"You come in here, drink 20 bottles of beer for each of you, don't have enough money to pay your tab, and then expect the bartender to help you be drunk drivers on the way home?!" she shouts. "What did you EXPECT us to do?!"

The two drunks stumble to their feet, and both take a punch at Arachne simultaneously. She easily blocks their clumsy, swaying blows and flips them both to the ground.

"Bitch," curses the slightly taller of the drunks, a man who surprisingly seems to be dressed in a tuxedo. The evils of ****, you think to yourself, tempt everyone. "I wish we were back in the time when MEN were MEN, and WOMEN were WOMEN. God, you're such a man, I bet you could get YOURSELF pregnant if you chose!"

Saying this, the man gets to his feet and takes another swing at Arachne. This time you step in and cold-cock him. The shorter drunk runs away from the scene, leaving Arachne to take the now-**** tall one to a safe place.

Upon her return, she looks you straight in the eye.

"You're back," she states. "I figured you would be someday."

Arachne's never been one for intensely emotional displays. The two of you share a quick hug, and then pat each other on the shoulders. Arachne has even more well-toned shoulders now then before, but not overly so; she doesn't look like she's been taking steroids.

"So watcha' been up to, John?" Arachne asks curiously.

"I'm an escort," you point out. "It's my job to take paying women out for a good time. Possibly sex at the end of it, although that's only sometimes."

Arachne crinkles her nose. "Somehow I can't imagine YOU getting laid. You were always a gentle guy back when we were kids. Did adulthood finally make you more mature or something?"

You nod, and Arachne bursts out laughing.

"I knew it! I knew one of these days you'd finally find somebody you felt like doing 'that' with," she snorts. "I bet you have all sorts of interesting stories to tell, don'tcha?"

You try to explain that you actually were more interested in what's been going on in ARACHNE'S life, but she cuts you off.

"We can talk about it during lunch hour; right now it's morning and some of the customers aren't finished with breakfast," Arachne explains. "I have to keep a close eye on the less savory customers so I can keep this place safe and orderly. Feel like sticking around until then?

You pause, stopping to think...