(no subject)

[fatboyrun.livejournal.com]

Dennis doesn't spot the notice, when he first arrives in Milliways tonight. It's not til he wanders Bar-wards that he spots the cardboard sign, and his face takes on a decided greenish tinge. His attention goes from the sign to the large board filled with innumerable names and types of currency. Dennis squints at the small type, getting up on his knees on a stool and leaning on the bar in order to get a better look at the number next to his name. He leans, he leans, he leans, just a little farther--

And, perhaps predictably, there is a startled "HURK!" sort of a noise, a frantic waving of arms (too little, too late), and a thud that rattles all of the glassware in the general vicinity.



Behind the bar, Dennis says, "...Ow."

He perks up a little, though, as he picks himself up and takes in his surroundings. Since he's back here already, he figures, he might as well get himself a drink. He'll need it, if he's going to figure out how to pay his tab.

Thus, there is a man in a blue windbreaker standing behind the bar, unlit cigarette in his mouth, utterly absorbed in pouring a pint.

(He is bartending, even if he may not realise it yet.)

[Tag: Dennis Doyle, Gordon O'Dell]