Peter Quill, Star-lord was raving. "What the hell are we doing here, Rocket? I've seen some strange planets in my time, but a disc?! On the back of a giant turtle?!"
"You left out the elephants." Rocket Raccoon answered.
"I was getting to the elephants! I'm still getting my mind around the elephants! Why are we here? Is there a huge threat? Are we here to steal something?"
"I am Groot" interrupted the large tree-like being behind them.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you big guy. Listen, idiots, we're here for some R&R. We just saved the Galaxy, again, we deserve some quality time. Quill, you don't want to be stealing stuff in this town, cops are that good. Besides, you're not a mem-"
They suddenly found themselves surrounded by four shadowy figures with knives and coshes. One of them said "Right, you don't want to be thieving without a license, we take a dim view on that. Gentlemen, it's your lucky night! We're prepared to offer you a year free of theft for the low, low price of two silvers apiece! A bargain!"
"Bargain? Ludd, that's twice the going rate, unless the schedules have been changed since I've been here! Here!" Rocket stepped forward with a card in his hand. (1)
The thief looked over the card. "You're a member? Had you lot pegged as out of towners." He eyed the group. "Way out of town. What about these two?"
"Under my protection. Professional courtesy, right? We're headed to the Drum, care to join us?" Rocket said.
"Love to, mate, but can't. You know how it is. Quotas."
"Right. Well, good hunting!" Rocket grinned, a mouthful of sharp teeth.
"Quaff one for me!" The four thieves practically dissolved into an inky alley.
"What the fuck was that?!" Peter muttered. He looked at the card Rocket had shown to the thief. It read:
Rocket Raccoon #1123
Anhk-Morpork Guild of Thieves
"For Your Piece of Mind"
"They misspelled 'peace'." Peter said.
"Not to their way of thinking." Rocket countered.
"I am Groot."
"That, guys, was business as usual in wonderful, scenic Anhk-Morpork, 'citie of onne thousand surprises!' You guys are gonna love it here!" Rocket effused. They turned a corner and Rocket indicated a building. "We're here!"
Peter looked at the sign. It had a drum, skin held together with stitching. "Where's here, exactly?"
"The Mended Drum! The most reputable disreputable tavern in the galaxy! C'mon!" They entered and sat down at the bar. "Two scumbles and a Winkle's Old Peculiar for me." Rocket ordered. The barman returned with a pewter tankard of brown ale for Rocket, a wooden (2) tankard for Groot, and a thimble sized glass for Star-lord. Peter took a sip and spat it back out, explosively.
"Jesus, what's this made from?! Gasoline?!" Peter exclaimed.
"Apples. Well, mostly apples." Rocket answered. Groot took a long draught of his and a smile lit up his face.
"I am Groot!" He said.
"Damn right it is, big guy! Thought you'd like it!"
Peter tried again and managed to keep it down. Warmth filled his belly, the scent of apples filled his nose and buzzing filled his ears. "It's growing on me. Rocket, there's a monkey sitting at the bar."
"Hoo, boy." Rocket said, shaking his head, one paw grasping his snout, eyes closed.
"I am Groot." Groot said, rising.
"Leave them be, big guy. How else is he going to learn?" Rocket said.
Two event filled minutes later, Groot was snapping Peter's arms back into his shoulders.
"You see, Quill, the difference between an ape and the m-word is that relatively few m-words can dislocate a man's arms with their feet." Rocket expounded.
"Got it, thanks." Said Peter.
"Ook." Said the ape.
"Introductions are in order I think. Librarian, this is Peter Quill, Star-lord, the leader of our little gang of misfits. Quill, this is the librarian, librarian at Unseen University, wizard and APE, right?"
"And this is Groot."
"I am Groot."
"What the..."Peter started.
"Shut up, Quill! I've been looking forward to this a long time!" Rocket snapped.
"I am Groot."
"I am Groot."
"I am Groot!"
"Ook! Ook ookook ook."
"I am GROOT!"
"Ook eek ook." The librarian shoved a bowl of peanuts over to Groot.
"We are Groot."
"Aww, look Quill! He's made a friend!"
"What the hell just happened?"
"You really are dense, Quill! They swapped stories. Touching, really." Rocket snagged some peanuts from his friend. "Where'd Gamora and Drax go?"
"Gamora said she didn't want to spend another night with children getting shitfaced. She was going to find some culture. Drax decided to join her."
"Why are we wearing all these clothes again?" Asked Drax the Destroyer.
"We're going to the opera. You can't go to the opera with no shirt." Gamora said.
"Why not?" Drax asked. He hated binding clothing.
"It simply isn't done." Gamora replied.
"Why do all our arguments end this way?"
"Ah. I see."
Gamora smirked to herself. They strode up to the box office of the Opera House. "Two please" she said to the spotty youth behind the window.
"Stalls, mezzanine or gods?" Asked the youth.
Gamora plonked two large pieces of gold down. "What do YOU think?" She asked.
"Oh, Milady wishes a box! That can be arranged." The coins disappeared in exchange for two tickets. "Box five, milady. Dead center. Best in the house." Gamora and Drax went in.
Green and blue, thought the ticket seller. Don't often see zombies that colour holding together so well. Gold's the important colour anyway, he thought, putting the cost of a half season into the cashbox.
Gamora and Drax settled in to enjoy 'La Triviata'. Halfway through the first act Drax asked "Gamora, why is that fat girl doing the singing for the skinny girl up front?"
Gamora hadn't noticed. Her attention was on the two old women who had started a fuss with a cat before the opera even started. She paid some attention to the stage. "Probably the idiots running this place don't think she's decorative enough for a starring role. Men! Shame, she's probably the best singer I've ever heard."
The tall, thin one of the two trouble making women in black suddenly got up and left, leaving a trail of ruined footwear under her hob-nailed boots. The short fat one followed discreetly, murmuring "Sick, feeling sick..." A path opened like magic before her. Gamora suddenly realised why they had drawn her attention. Both of them, quietly, somehow carried enough raw power to stand up to Thanos himself!
"Drax," she said "this place is starting to seriously creep me out. Let's see how the boys are doing, alright?"
"As you wish."
"A wizard's staff has a knob on the end, knob on the end, knob on the end! Ooh it's big and round and three to the.."
"Shut up, Quill! It's too early for your caterwauling, the sing-along doesn't start until after the bar brawl! Have some more scumble."
"Don' think I can, Rockit. Faw down go boom! Whass th' deal wit th' big stoney dudes an' th' li'l guys wit axes?"
"I told you, they're trolls and dwarfs!"
"No shit? Like Tulkeen? Wheresa elfs den? I wanna come on to Galadrialial!"
"DON'T SAY THAT WORD! You want them HERE?! Don't they teach you anything on Earth? Damn monkey! Oh, no, not you, sir! Not in any way, shape or form!"
"Glad you agree."
At this point, someone accused someone else of looking at them funny and the traditional Mended Drum bar brawl started. A large man in leather and three spikes on his helmet head-butted Groot and was punched clean through the wall.
"WAKE UP, TIME TO DIE."
Star-lord shook his head, put on his headphones and played "Ballroom Blitz". Gamora and Drax came crashing through the front door and Rocket and the librarian shared a seat and a bowl of peanuts in one of the light fixtures. A good time was had by all.(3)
(1) Well, paw technically.
(2) The contents would eat through metal.
(3) Except those who didn't want the snot beaten out of them, and Enos Streetspotter of course. But they hardly counted.