MkAfee Clan
"Now you're absotutely sure about this?" Chet MkAfee, oldest of the brothers, sniffed as he stared hard at the front door of the dagger. He looked more like a walking mound of dirt than any sort of a human being, what with the shaggy brown-grey hair going all over his face and wearing the family's one pair of brown pants that was almost certainly once blue around his overly rotund belly.
"Yah." One of the younger brothers, tall and thin like a reed but with the same shaggy look nodded.
There was a point towards the door. "In this here bar?"
"Yah!" The man nodded repatedly. "Here a lot. KILLS here!"
"Well, ok then. We just keep on waiting. Jirai's got to go outside a lot during the day, what with that weirdo suntan!"
So the amassed eight brothers, sticks, large rocks, and sticks with rocks tied to them (making very crude clubs), sat at the ready for Jirai to appear continuing to loudly discuss their plans for her when she would arrive.