The Sad-looking Bar owner.

Fluffy looked distantly across at his bar. Probably imagining how his original vision was so different from what it had become. Since being forced into early retirement from a notorious career as a founding member of one of the city’s most dangerous bikie gangs, due to a motorbike accident, fluffy had opened a bar in pursuit of a quieter life. He had dreamed of free spirited people of all ages who would rush in everyday, the darts that would fly haphazardly past heads, and of the bar brawls he would be able to tear apart one handed. Instead his beloved bar of hopeful chaos had become a favourite spot for office workers. Morons in “monkey suits” had invaded fluffy’s dream and it seemed like they where there to stay.