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Description: The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel. The Chatsubo was a bar for professional expatriates; you could drink there for a week and never hear two words in Japanese. Ratz was tending bar, his prosthetic arm jerking monotonously as he filled a tray of glasses with draft Kirin. He saw Case and smiled… - William Gibson – Neuromancer Okay. The Japanese is bad, call it deliberate. This is an ex-pats bar and well, Ratz – He don’t care much if his sign reads wrong in Japanese. ;)
