Whose death to toast next?
$5 on the devil.
–pours another drink
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~The door bursts open with enough force to slam against the wall. In stomps Evelyn Wolff, soaking wet, a line of red across her neck. She stalks across the room and snatches a bottle of vodka from the shelves behind the bar, raising a finger in warning at YOwOL, who quickly stifles his objection. Heading to an empty table nearby, she seats herself, tilting her chair back and propping her feet up on the table. She takes a long, long swig straight from the bottle-- and abruptly breaks into a wide grin.~
Well, that was fun! I wish it could have lasted longer, but them’s the breaks. Guess I’m picking up this round. And Iet’s see-- I’ll put $10 on Zero Demos joining us soon.
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Um, yeah… should I apologize, or are we good?
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Woof, we good. Dead and gone, but good.
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Awesome! What are you drinking, I’ll get you one!
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Demos walks slowly up to the door of the Necktie Lounge. He places one hand dolefully on the door, and…
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Holy crap! That was a guess (since the Devil was already claimed by Shemp.)
Do you want a drink?
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Buy me a drink? Oh, I couldn’t possibly let you. It just wouldn’t be right.
I mean, for one thing, what’s a Grecian Urn?
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'Scuse me, madam. I need me a stiff drink. Oh, and to quote my replacement… When it comes to your wee wager:
I want you to hear me out there
This is for all you bad boys
This a story of the satan rock ‘n’ roll
I want you to put your hand in your pocket
Take ten dollars out and send it to me
Later on, once I’ve had me drink, I’ll tell ye all about it.
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Basically, I guess it could be worse,
Yes I do suppose it could be worse…
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As it is filling up here it seems to be heating up out there.
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~ looks at Bon, then at Zero who is grinning at his successful prank. She slides the drink she’d offered to Bon instead.~
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Zero shrugs and offers an apologetic smile “…reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”
He sighs. “ah well, no rest for the wicked. Well, not all of us, anyway”, glancing at TD Himself. “My sympathy”.
Zero meanders over to the jukebox, queues up a song, and leaves the bar.
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Just before he goes feels a wet thump and splat in the middle of his back
“There’s where my head’s at.”
walks over and picks up head
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Barkeep, I’ll have a rum and Coke.
And a straw.
And a mop.
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“Another bucket for Monsieur! And perhaps… a hose.”
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