In cheek pockets, proboscii quiver. For an instant, only an instant, they extrude a millimeter, overcome by the heady aroma detectable only to Anzati; the others, despite races and genders, are in all ways unaware. But nothing is earned without anticipation; it is a fillip wholly invigorating, and worth the self-denial.Accordingly, proboscii withdraw, if resentfully, coiling back into the pockets beside my nostrils. I brush a film of sand from my sleeves, tug the jacket into place, and walk down the four steps into the belly of the bar.
Soup here is plentiful.
Patience will be rewarded.
The short story is really more an exercise in atmosphere than a chronicle of events; not much happens. Dannik eyes the bar, and savors the aroma of "soup" coming from such Force and luck-blessed beings as Luke Skywalker and Han Solo, but as seen in the movie, he pretty much bides his time. It's not until the next anthology, Tales from Jabba's Palace, that we see him hunt, in Roberson's "Out of the Closet: The Assassin's Tale".
From these tales on, the Anzati would become the perfect nightmare species, earning the appropriately disgusting moniker of "snot vampire" for their nasal feeding habits.




















