"RIGHT TO WORK! RIGHT TO WORK!" the ostensible leader of the strikebreakers chants…

"I don't think I've chosen any sides yet."

"Might be time. Don't let the fat bastards tread on you. Cops tend to side with the higher-ups, but you're essentially still workers."

"I don't trust cops, but... I can see you understand the --" He raises his voice and chants: "RIGHT TO WORK! RIGHT TO WORK!"

"Regardless, I have some questions for you." (Proceed.)

"Maybe you should ask them the questions, like why we're not allowed to make a living here?" He bellows to the gates: "SHAME ON YOU!"

"We have families to feed, you piece of shit!" He points his finger at the man sitting on the railing.

"So do we, scab!" the loitering man hollers in return.

"Basteeerds! We have a RIGHT TO WORK!" the man yells towards the harbour gates. His voice is the loudest of the lot -- and oddly screechy for a man his size.

"What's going on here?"

"Hold up and stay frosty, everyone! Cops are here." The broad-shouldered alpha male turns to you. He's a full head taller than everybody else here.

"You here to fuck with us? Beat the honest worker down?"

"No."

"Good. We're fighting for a cause here." He chants at the gates: "RIGHT TO WORK! RIGHT TO WORK!"

"Besides, we're not that different." He leans closer. "It helps if people see us talking -- cops and strikebreakers together. Shows authorities are on our side. Builds confidence."

"Why should I?"

"We're here to fight for a cause. Stripes usually have problems with people who have causes."

"Yes."

"Hah! Couldn't handle us. A cause gives the workers strength. Gives them power." He bellows at the gates: "We have -- A RIGHT TO WORK!"

"I am the law."

"Everyone understands you're the law. That's why you have that insignia on your arm. So you don't have to keep saying it."

"Yes, people get that you are the law. You really don't have to keep saying it."

"Looks like too much trouble for my taste." [Leave.]

"RIGHT TO WORK!" He seems to have returned to his previous routine, as if he'd never seen the photo of the tattoo.

"Went native on the chief, huh?" He nods in approval. "Those ballerina antics were reckless. Should have just punched him in the throat again."

Wrong. You did the right thing with Measurehead. The ballerina antics won you the fight.

He pauses, then abruptly changes the subject: "Let's talk about our right to work."

"What about it? You're 'right to work'?"

"Nice aggression with the native." He nods in approval. "Don't let the chief fool you next time. You don't need to be that up in his face -- leave yourself space to move."

Not bad advice, actually. This might do the trick..

He abruptly changes the subject: "Let's talk about our right to work."