[ --and then someone's hand is settling on HIS shoulder as Abel finds the burly man stepping from the shadows of the seedy bar, beginning to haul him toward the back entrance as the woman smiles at Dokja, sickly sweet. ]

Ah? --Ah? M-mister... Mister Dokja--?! MISTER DOKJA?! NO, I-- I have a VERY fatty liver, y-you don't want to eat, it, I-- MISTER DOKJAAA?!

[ HELP?? ]