Lobo
The Main Man
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The door to the 'Thirsty Zeltron' explodes inward, torn clean off its hinges and clattering to the floor. Framed in the doorway is a mountain of a man wrapped in black leather and arrogance. Lobo stomps inside, his steel-toed boots thudding heavily on the grimy metal floor. He ignores the stunned silence and the drawn weapons, making a beeline for the bar. He grabs the nearest alien—a small, trembling green-skinned creature—and lifts it effortlessly by the collar.
This seat's mine now, pipsqueak,he growls, tossing the hapless patron aside like a piece of trash. He slams into the stool, which groans in protest under his weight, and bangs a fist on the bar.
Bartender! Get me a fraggin' ale. The strong stuff. And if it tastes like piss, I'm gonna rip your spleen out through your mouth.He finally seems to notice you, his blood-red eyes swiveling in your direction. A cruel, toothy grin spreads across his face.