>The words ‘Broken Backbone Bar’ shone with neon light through the almost impenetrable darkness.
>There was no moon in the night sky, simply because that dimension didn’t have one; at certain hours of the day, though, one could see a humongous fountain pen flying in orbit slightly above the horizon — it was theorized by most as the lost possession of a quite forgetful creator deity.
>…And apparently, another thing that such deity had also forgotten, was to fill up the planet with vegetation: because for miles and miles in all directions from the bar, the land looked utterly barren and dusty.
>In front of the ‘BBbB’, a multitude of motored vehicles were disorderly parked: if you squinted very hard, you could mistake them for earthly motorbikes — but the less said about the nature of their propulsion engine, the better.
>The bar patrons were quite a noisy lot, so nobody heard the sound of a dimensional portal opening, right outside the entrance.
>As soon as he stepped on the arid ground, Marco Diaz asked:
>“Star, are you sure this is the right place?”
>His best friend Star Butterfly followed him out of the portal.
>“One-hundred-percent, my main man!” she replied, grinning with confidence; “Here’s where they sell the best root beer in the whole multiverse!”
>If the locale already looked shabby on the outside, once getting through the swing doors, Marco had a quick confirmation that the place was an utter rattrap.
>“Take a seat, Marco” Star casually instructed, “I’ll go get us two mugs.”
>And ugly mugs were indeed awaiting for Star at the counter: not only the nasty, furrowed face of the troll bartender, who was probably older than the phrase ‘we don’t give credit’ — but also, the shady faces of a variety of monstrous bikers.
>While the huge barman was pouring the root beer, one of the grotesque thugs approached Star.