"A'course I ain't gonna call you Falk, 'cause I ain't your friend. And if youz punks are tryin' to break into the biz, you better shut the dwarf's claptrap NOW. 'Cause I can't tell if he's lookin' for work or a knife between the eyes. Call me Stumpy once more and I promise, it'll be the latter."
Shifting his gaze over to Ches, he continues, "A proper hood knows 'is, or her, place." Looking down now at the journal, "and at least the lady's got some couth. So, yeah, I got work, plenty of it. I usually don't work with unknowns, but you came in with Hatchet...hmm....."
Stump drifts off into thought for a few moments. Elbowing one of the 'ladies' next to him and pointing across his table, he says, "Pour some wine for me an' Blondie. How 'bout you come sit by me and we'll talk business." He thrusts his leg out under the table, pushing the chair opposite him out, his hand inviting Ches to come have a seat. "You, Tinman, keep an eye on Mr. Falk. And you, drow, come join us - I like your guts."