I don't know if you Yankees know this but in British culture, when the pub's closed, it's a chance for the regulars to have a nice indoor ciggie, you know? A bit of peace and quiet away from the mistress.

So what the bloody hell makes you think one of them would spoil it for a chinwag with a stranger?

Fine, kneel O' dusty pilgrim and present thy offering.

A Glendronach? From before the Cataclysm? You must be desperate.

What do you want?

A story about Gargantua? What makes you think I have a story about her?

Hmph, fine.

"A seasoned bounty hunter guides an idealistic, young hero through her first day in the Superhero business, pulling back the curtains on what really happens, both good and bad, in the realm of the gods who protect humanity."

How does that story sound for you?

You know, when wolves hunt their prey, they usually engage them in a chase, usually to herd them towards a location where they can corner their prey before going for the kill.

The chase itself is pretty straightforward with little twists and turns, but the location? That makes the difference between a full belly...

Or starvation.

Word of advice to you, Prissy, if you're hearing this, never tail someone to a pub in England. Unlike you, we are loyal to our own.

I'm not going back, Prissy. I made my decision, and I'm going to stand by it. I'll kill anyone who stands in my way, be it Panopticon, Stormsworn, Lilith, or even Ataraxia himself.

See you around, love. Only one of us coming out alive when we meet again.

Until then, ta'

End of transmission.