*Rap, Rap, Rap* She heard the knocking behind her, at the bar door. And she looked, and she saw the Man Knocking at her bar's door. And all she heard Was *Rape, Rape, Rape* Honest people didn't come out of their houses so much nowadays. And they certainly wouldn't come to investigate this bar, where everything of value had already been stripped. Why was he knocking at the door? He was large, tall and broad and unkempt and white. He wore a frayed workman's hoody, and had a long scraggly beard. He looked like he could be an impoverished rapist. "You can't come in!" She shouted, afraid. "No. New owner? I used to work for the old owners. Ask them about me. I live right around the corner. I was their most trusted employee. Ask anyone." She told him "Old owners are dead, now" He frowned. He actually looked so sad. So much remorse, he was either an excellent liar, or being honest. "Alright, you change your mind, i will be back, same time tomorrow. You don't gotta let me in. I won't break in, or nothing. But if you need an old-school bartender, I'd like to submit my resume. I'll just hold it up next to the window. And hope The Weather doesn't blow it away."