A lone sentry is on duty below. You shout a few obscenities his way. You wonder aloud what a guy has to do to get a decent meal around here. Hey, you're TALKING to that guy. It's no use though. He ignores you.

Just look at that stoic face. The unshakeable discipline. The stalwart sense of duty and pride. This is what it means to be a member of the Prospitian Royal Guard.

What a load of shit, you grumble to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear.

> Jack: Inspect pumpkin.