[JacobSturbridge]

Virgil came out from the alley behind the bar. His eyes squinting into the street lights as his head rose to gaze upon them. His feet looked a little unsteady and he began to sing under his breath, "Then the swaggie comes in smothered in dust and flies, he throws down his roll and rubs the sweat from his eyes, but when he is told, he says what's this I hear ,I've trudged fifty flamin' miles to a pub with no beer." As his song ends he is standing in front of the brickyard. He reaches into his pocket and grabs the materials required to roll a cigarette and takes a look around. He lowers his suspenders around his waist and lights the ciggarette. He takes four or five drags and the cigarette is done. Adjusting his hat he opens the door and steps inside, not knowing anywhere but this place he wonders if any others in his new domain would be there.