“MUCKBEASTS!” you shout, as loud as you can. “MUCKBEASTS ON THE LOOSE!”
“Oh, what, again?” the thug with the club mutters. “Thought those were dealt with already.”
“Then I guess we’ll take our conversation elsewhere,” says the other, cracking their whip. “Now, you can come along gently… or not so gently.”
Not what you were hoping for. So you’ll have to be a little more direct.
“MUCKBEASTS!” you shout, running right towards the pair. They’re taken aback as you approach, for long enough that your worthless father is able to slip away.
Unfortunately, they’re now looking directly at you and they aren’t happy. You’ve basically traded one problem for another.
Tell them they smell like a bunch of muckbeasts and run away! Maybe if you run enough, you’ll run into someone helpful.