<kicks in door, stands amidst the flaming wreckage. Jester is wearing a long black trenchcoat, heavy boots (for ass-stomping), black gloves, and a pair of the newest, hippest black Oakley shades>
<looks around, the smoke from the cigarette that dangles intimidatingly from his mouth curls up past his jingly hat, which is tilted at a bad-ass angle>
I hear somebody in here has got something against Threadkillers.
<walks through bar, looking. Pulls out sawed-off pool cue>
Well, I’m just gonna say this. “Threadkillers” may not be the most popular word around here at the moment, but we still stick together. And, as the one who started this little band of outlaws, I feel it’s my responsibility to teach you some manners, miss.
<Walks up to Pucette>
I’m gonna make my return to the boards memorable, by whuppin’ some player-hatin’ ass!
<hardcore techno music picks up, Jester beats Pucette senseless with pool cue, then pours a bottle of cheap vodka onto her>
Let that be a lesson to you. We’ve moved on from our Threadkilling days, and you should, too, cause some of us are still a bit sensitive about it.
<throws cigarette onto the alcohol-soaked Pucette, walks out as even more of the bar explodes>