"A Nosepass with a problem with some fellas who don't pay him back...huh, that's gotta get him all stuffy 'bout somethin'. Not worth the money, to be honest. Not even enough danger to try and get by with anythin' FUN..." Page flip. Next advertisement. "Now we got an asshole who's all about fuckin' people over with his trashy guild - bring 'em in, make 'em do work, and in the end, they take the profits - a whopping 90%." The Mudkip peers over his comic, looking back and forth, before bringing it back up to his eye-level, his 3-D glasses firmly set on his eyes. "Sounds like a teeny bit worse version of this place...haha!"
Breen Torrents, just as busy as always, sets himself apart from everyone else in the guild - quite literally, actually, he's in the Janitor's closet, hiding from the guild assistant, reading mercenary ads out of his comic books. No shit. I couldn't make this any more simply put than it already is.
"Now looky here! A guy who's crime consists of promising writin' shit for the guild, ends up delaying it and delaying it, but still keeps his credibility for his job! Arceus, these are the worst of the scum here...smells of rotten Magikarp..."