Green Lantern Corps
Two men sit together in a dark, shadowy bar. One man is African-American, speaks in proper American English. He doesn't slouch, doesn't slur his words; you can tell he's been in the marines. His hands are covered in blood. The other man a white man, a ginger, Baltimore accent, he's covered in blood, splattered all over his attire. More rash, more bash. His tone is harder, angrier than the other man. "That was a helluva fight, huh?", the white man says as he drinks from his pitcher. "Hell's nothing compared to what just happened.", the black man says, in a more sober tone, "trust me - I've seen hell." He pauses, looking at his reflection in the table, before continuing to drink. "Yeah, well, good thing we just happened to be a solar system with a fuckin' bar," taking another swig, "with actual beer, too. Don't get nothin' this good on Oa." The bartender approaches them, a purple-skinned man w...