Phule’s Paradise by Robert Asprin

The answer came to Lobo in the form of two Legionnaires who ambled into the bar while he was waiting for his drink. In an instant, Lobo knew he had his target.

The woman was nothing much-short, with the soft curves of lingering baby fat. But her companion! Lobo mentally licked his lips in anticipation.

Even Stilman would have to be impressed that Lobo had chosen the monster to pick a fight with, especially a fight he was destined to lose. What was more, “monster” was an accurate description of the Legionnaire he was targeting. The guy was some kind of alien, huge with a big warthog head and all-black animal eyes. At a glance it was easy to see that he would have to be one of the “heavyweights” for the security force.

“That will be five dollars, sir,” the cocktail waitress said, interrupting Lobo’s thoughts as she delivered his drink.

The opportunity was too good to let pass.

“What do you mean, five dollars?” he snarled, raising his voice. “I thought drinks were free in these casinos.”

Though she was small, easily as small as the uniformed Legionnaire accompanying the monster, the cocktail waitress held her ground, apparently used to dealing with loud drunks.

“That’s at the tables, sir,” she explained patiently. “Drinks are complimentary while you’re playing, but here in the bar we have to charge you. If you’d like, I can take it back.”

“Oh, hell … here!” Lobo spat, fishing a bill from his pocket and throwing it at her. “Just don’t expect a tip, too.”

The waitress smoothed the bill, quickly checking its denomination, then retreated without another word.