wizard_howell (
wizard_howell) wrote in
milliways_bar2008-04-08 06:29 pm
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Entry tags:
Happy Hour
The front door to the bar practically flies open; a tall, slender black-haired man with turquoise earrings struts in, entirely unconcerned with appearances, entirely unsurprised to find himself suddenly in a different pub from the one where, moments ago, he excused himself to... what was he doing again? Right, using the facilities. Anyone who knows him might surmise he's been out yet again with the rugby club. Perhaps the words WELSH RUGBY gracing the back of his leather jacket and the somewhat suspect aroma of crowded pub hovering round him -- smoke, sweat, beer, pis, cider -- are what give it away. For his part, he doesn't appear to notice in the least. He's simply slightly plastered and glad to be here.
As if he owns the place, he does something he's always wanted: after a moment's brief consult with (and a kiss to) Bar, he leaps over her surface -- rather nimbly for one in his precarious state of inebriation -- and stands behind it. With his hands on his hips, he leans back and laughs. "My head will ache in the morning and my wife will likely chop it off and serve it to me on a platter. Perffaith! Let's have a bit of fun in the meantime, shall we?" He might be slightly drunk, but he's still Ingary's best and most overworked Royal Wizard: waving his hand, words appear in glimmering gold letters on the specials board:
"Diolch yn fawr, Bar. You're a lady after my own heart." The irony of the statement doesn't sink in quite as much as it might on a more sober night, but he laughs again regardless. "Here's to cheating, stealing, fighting, and drinking. If you cheat, may you cheat death. If you steal, may you steal a woman's heart. If you fight, may you fight for a brother. And if you drink, may you drink with me."
It's just his very ostentatious way of letting people know: happy hour (Howell Jenkins style) is open for business.
[tiny tag: gus dickinson, scaramouche]
As if he owns the place, he does something he's always wanted: after a moment's brief consult with (and a kiss to) Bar, he leaps over her surface -- rather nimbly for one in his precarious state of inebriation -- and stands behind it. With his hands on his hips, he leans back and laughs. "My head will ache in the morning and my wife will likely chop it off and serve it to me on a platter. Perffaith! Let's have a bit of fun in the meantime, shall we?" He might be slightly drunk, but he's still Ingary's best and most overworked Royal Wizard: waving his hand, words appear in glimmering gold letters on the specials board:
Heno: Cwrw Cymru a Seidir
(This evening: Welsh beer and cider)
Cymysg
(mixed)
Snake Bite
Red Witch
Diaddurn
(plain)
Brains Smooth Extra Cold
Black Dragon Cider
"As you slide down the bannister of life, may the splinters never point the wrong way."
(This evening: Welsh beer and cider)
Cymysg
(mixed)
Snake Bite
Red Witch
Diaddurn
(plain)
Brains Smooth Extra Cold
Black Dragon Cider
"As you slide down the bannister of life, may the splinters never point the wrong way."
"Diolch yn fawr, Bar. You're a lady after my own heart." The irony of the statement doesn't sink in quite as much as it might on a more sober night, but he laughs again regardless. "Here's to cheating, stealing, fighting, and drinking. If you cheat, may you cheat death. If you steal, may you steal a woman's heart. If you fight, may you fight for a brother. And if you drink, may you drink with me."
It's just his very ostentatious way of letting people know: happy hour (Howell Jenkins style) is open for business.
[tiny tag: gus dickinson, scaramouche]