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"Don't worry about me, dear" said Vince, dusting himself off and trying to look presentable despite his face being a pizza of bruises with a broken nose topping. "I bat for the other team, so to speak..."

 

Some time later, in a lowlife bar...

 

He was big. A big man even for a biker gang full of big men. The gaschuggers were no simple biker gang. His arms were thicker than most mens legs, and tattoo,s covered his body. A scar ran down part of his face, although it was by no means his only scar. 

 

He listened to the garbled accounts of his bikers with a mixture of irritation and interest. 

 

"A werewolf...in Freedom City..."

 

He clenched his fists, and his eyes steamed an unnatural red as a nasty grin formed...

 

~ Fin ~

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