[General Woundwort]

Outside the front facade of the Phong's Head (currently being polished and burnished by a swarm of droids resembling mechanical Dow Scrubbing Bubbles), Woundwort is having a discussion with the Peter Lorre clone again. The discussion is rather spirited.

"What do you mean, Starfury won't be open for business for another eight to ten weeks!?!?!?"

"I'm most sorry, sir, but the operating authorities on Malfador III have decided to rework their economic and ship construction models. They assure me that this delay will drastically improve..."

"Oh, I'm sure it will. Meanwhile we'll be sitting here on our duffs with an empty Cantina. Bloody administrators!"

"Your patience is greatly appreciated, sir."

"It's not my patience you need to procure at this moment. My Boss is most displeased with this apparent blow to our profits. If... when he demands an accounting for this, I assure you it won't come out of my hide!"

Woundwort turns and stomps into the Phong's Head. The doors slide shut behind him.

The Lorre clone is left on a windblown empty street, looking with fearful apprehension at his UWW pad, currently featuring the fearsome portrait of Growltigger in its display.