milliways_bar | (no subject)

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"Billy Liar's got his hands in his pockets
Staring over at the neighbor's, knickers down.
He's got his knickers down."

Sings the happy-go-lucky Head Bar-ex-turtle.
He's behind Bar with a HUGE stack of papers in front of him.
There are crayons.

Fear.

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"Oh well, if it's just you then I guess that means it's all okay then."

Do you see the skeptical look?
It's so very composed of skeptical and look.

OK, so there'll be no introducing himself as Lucifer then.

"Well, yes. Unless you're me, in any case."

Mike considers this for a second.

"I'm not,...am I?"

Sam pretends to consider the idea. "Nah. I'm better looking."

"Ooooh, you want to go down that road, huh?"

Samn snerks. "Well, if you're going to deny it..."

"I'm just saying that I know I'm pretty, that's all..."

(OOC: Sorrysorrysorry, I didn't get the notification!)

"Yeah, but my point was that I'm prettier."

"And that's where I'm afraid we're going to have to agree to disagree."

Sam tuts. "And there I was, expecting the head barman of the bar at the end of the universe to be a perceptive kinda guy."

Oh that gets a grin.

"Seems I'm not alone in lacking-in-perception land."

"Are you? Went there once. Food's crap and it's packed to the gills."

"Yeah, and it's full of people who argue with their bartenders. Poor lost souls."

He tuts. "Poor, poor souls." He eyes his own glass consideringly. "Speaking of which, I'd like a pint if you're serving."

"I might be inclined to do so. Have a preference of pint? Or do I get to experiment?"

"I'd agree to an experiment if I thought it was safe." Sam grins. Beat. "Well, if it can beat my healing factor it's probably worth it. Go on, surprise me."

Mike takes that go ahead as a "g'head" and begins to whip up one of his special Chocolate Milk Shakes.

And just so no one can accuse him of being a stick in the mud, he replaces a good portion of the milk with a mixture of Bailey's Irish Creme and Godiva Chocolate Liqeur.

"There, tell me what you think of that."

When Sam requested a pint, he meant beer. Probably a sign he's spent a decade too many in Britain.

But oooh. Chocolate. Some of which may now be on his nose.

"...You'll go far in this business, my friend."

"I've got this theory that you act like you drink. Far too many people here drink things that are bitter, dry, or just plain old nasty. Never enough sweet."

Chocolate. Chocolate is good.

He grins in a chocolatey sort of way. "Oh, I'm sweet enough for the whole bar. And even if I weren't, this certainly is."

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