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| ||This is the transcript of a dialogue or message file, a file which contains the dialogue of a non-player character in a given game or ingame messages related to scripts and items.|
| ||This is a transcript for dialogue with Salieri, hardware salesman and Pit organizer on the Docks of Los holding pens..|
Los holding pens entranceEdit
Begone you drug-addled ruffians - Oh... you are a real customer! My greatest apologies! I am Salieri. Please, let us conduct our business.
- Yeah, let's trade.
- Wait a second... haven't I seen you somewhere before?
- No thanks. I'll just go play with the drug-addled ruffians instead.
- Your brother wanted me to deliver this package to you.
- Uh, maybe later. Bye.
Ah, you must mean my brother, Hieronymous, who runs a similar store on the bridge. Perhaps you would aid me by bringing this package to him? I'm sure he would be grateful for the safe delivery of this unremarkable parcel.
- Sure. But first, I'm here to trade.
- Great, now I'm a mail carrier. I'm on my way.
- Hmm, this package has no markings... I believe that it is not meant for me, but for my brother in the city.
- I'm positive it's for you. Go on. Take it.
- All right... if you don't want it. How about some regular trading then?
- You think so? Maybe I'll bring it to him instead. Bye.
The package you delivered has detonated as planned, removing my troublesome and competitive brother. The loss of a family member is tragic... but the increase in business is spectacular! Now, for you, a special discount!
- Well, in that case, let's trade.
- Good to know that family values are still alive and well. Have a nice day.
Idiot! You have delivered the package to the wrong shop, and it has detonated... killing my other brother! Let us never speak of this again!
- Fine. I'm done being your errand-runner anyway. Let's trade.
- Speak of what? I'm outta here.
Ah, hello again! News of your violent exploits has reached my putrescent ears... May I interest a dim-witted barbarian such as yourself in some sport?
- Not interested. Let's trade.
- Sport, huh? What kind of sport?
- I've got something better. A package from your brother on the docks.
- No... I'd better be going.
A simple physical contest. The winner gains many bottle caps. The loser is given a burial unfit for a rabid dog. Perhaps you are interested?
- Forget it. Let's trade.
- I could use a light workout.
- No... I'd better be going.
Ah, you will take part in some hideous massacre! Excellent! Come with me.
- Maybe I'd better shop for some things before the massacre.
- Lead on, my disgusting friend.
- I changed my mind... I'm allergic to massacres. Bye.
Despite my low estimation of your talents, you have survived the battle. Here is your blood-spattered reward. Perhaps you require a greater challenge?
- Maybe later. Right now I'm interested in getting some supplies.
- Sure. This time I want a real challenge.
- Thanks for the "sport", but I've got a mission to complete. Let's go back.
Here is your prize money, my bloodthirsty friend. Unfortunately, we must discontinue further games due to a lack of suitable contestants.
- Guess I'll have to look for enemies the old-fashioned way. Take me back.