Theatre District

You tell the guinea pigs how suspicious you find them. You then threaten to call for a guard.

"Damn wannabe guards, always sticking their snouts where they don't belong."

He spits at your paws.

"We'll move along, if you so insist."

The guinea pigs shuffle off into the shadows. As the leave, you just barely make out a mutter:

"Another enemy of the revolution."