"When all else fails, have a lizard with a gun come through the door."

This indoor scene needs pepping up. Consult the below, or roll 1d6.

1. The click of clawed feet echo down the road. There is a knock on the door. There are four soldiers outside, each with a cornflower-blue coat and a tall periwinkle shako. Four muskets with four gleaming bayonets are also on display. The first fusilier darts a forked tongue over sharp teeth. "Your pardon, sir, but we have orders to search this house. It is believed to be the site of an illegal printing press."

2. The door's unlocked. That's odd. You're generally quite careful about such things. Your hands ball into fists. You nudge the door open with a toecap. On the other side is the stark muzzle of a sawn-off shotgun, and a scaled hand holding it. "Told you what would happen, O'Grady. Told you what'd happen if you couldn't make yerr payments." The muzzle lowers slightly. "You ain't that bastard O'Grady! Where is he?!"

3. You're in the front parlour. The noise of the street drones on in the background. Then, there are muffled shouts, a cry and an almighty crash somewhere from your front door. You run into the hall. The door has been splintered asunder by the muzzle of a great bronze cannon. Behind it, there is a heaving mass of scaly flesh. You hear military oaths, and the sound of an aristocratic voice. "Packmaster! Get this curséd lizard moving! The Marshal wants these field pieces by the front line tonight!"

4. An iguana with a string tied to it crawls under the cellar door. As the little beast skitters forward, you see that the string is tied to some heavy object. Under the door comes a slim little nickel-plated pistol with a hand-written note: FROM A FRIEND.

5. "Aah, I see you've spotted my old hunting rifle!" Vindemiatrix the Golden rejoins you in the cavernous library, by a typically draconic roaring fire. He hands you another drink: it smells like paraffin and vermouth. "A lovely piece, don't you think? I wonder if it still shoots."

6. Lunchtimes are busy at the Hessian Grill, but it's the one place in the neighbourhood you can get good labskaus. Your order arrives, just as you finish a glass of switchel. Fork loaded, you are about to take your first bite....
"Everybody be cool: this is a robbery!"
Third time this week.

From Warren Ellis's Nextwave: Agents of HATE.

Context is available, but do you really care?