What a coincidence that Sky is here, because another Ranger has just arrived, albeit from twenty-odd years in Sky's past - at least in the form he's currently in. Tommy's had what one might consider a difficult afternoon, and right now a drink sounds like a very good thing. As such, he makes directly for the bar proper, and suddenly there's a fully uniformed Black Dino Ranger seated on a barstool right next to Sky.

There's also a wet, meaty thump, followed by a metallic clang, as Tommy slings something up onto the bar's surface. It looks like an arm, though what's leaking out of it to form a blackish green puddle is really anyone's guess. The Ranger winces a bit as he feels a sense of disapproval at his actions.

'Could you just, er, put that on ice for me?' he asks contritely. 'I couldn't very well leave it in the street, or throw it in the trash. People'd start talking.'

There's the silent echo of a sigh and then both the arm and mess disappear, to be replaced by a glass full of something green, glowing and frothy, along with a dish of fried paradoxes. Tommy removes his helmet, sets it aside, and picks up the glass. It's only when it's about halfway to his mouth that he realises he has company, and pauses.

'Oh, hey. Sky Tate, was it?'