The only tweaks, to the dialog. I may, on the last run through, tighten up the dialog, however at the moment their voices shine through.
Later that evening…
DB’s Bar, a three-story bar across the street from Puddles and Whiskers office. Local watering hole on the lower floor, trendy afterhours club on the middle floor, and hopping nightclub on the top floor and after short drive, two long showers, and a change of clothes later where Puddles and Whiskers regrouped.
“This really rubs my fur the wrong way,” Puddles mumbled, slamming an empty glass on the bar top.
“Hey!” the human bar tender exclaimed.
Puddles shot him her best “do not mess with me, but please serve me another drink look.” Returning from the bathroom, Whiskers sat next to her, waving the bar tender over.
“All I can say about the bathroom, is there is some interesting reading on the walls,” Whiskers said.
“A variation on a herg warmarch where every instance of birds above was replaced with various slang for male genitalia. Pretty funny and clever, if you are familiar with the warmarch.”
“Sounds fun,” she responded sarcastically.
Setting two new drinks in front of them, the bar tender eyeing Puddles for an extra second before moving to other customers. Lifting the drinks Puddles and Whiskers toasted themselves.
“What a mess,” Puddles began. “A bunch more dead people. No clues. No pay. No nothing.”
“I will agree that there is not a lot to go on,” Whiskers replied taking a sip and making a face at his drink. “What is this?”
“Oh,” Whiskers replied, taking another sip and making another face.
“Think we will get anything off of the recordings?”
“We know a few people who should be able to tell us what the rooms were set up for. The daughters,” Whiskers made air quotes around daughters, “bothers me.”
“I thought I saw one woman matching the vague description the Doc, gave us,” Puddles jumped in.
“I watched the one you are talking about run out, not a daughter.”
“There were no daughters. We were set up.”
“You are probably correct about the daughters, but I would like to make sure before moving onto the clean room.”
“We need to set up another meeting with Doctor Dan. What is his real name?”
“You still do not know his name?” Whiskers snorted, “A meeting is a good idea. We can ask him about his missing daughters, the clean room, and the gang protecting the room.”
Downing the last of her drink and slamming the glass on the counter again, Puddles said, “Those are some valid points. Morning call?”
“Why not now?”
Shrugging, Puddles gestured at the bar tender again, giving the universal sign for tab, “I’ll pay. You get the car.”