Happy hour!

[cook_the_rude]

[[meta: #tamed the reporter #hannibal is now post- 'trou normand']]

Dr. Hannibal Lecter steps up to the bar, receives a napkin, smiles, sheds his jacket and tie, rolls up his sleeves and dons an apron, takes stock of what's in reach behind the bar, and writes his list of specials:

Austro-Hungarian Happy Hour
Wines
Refosk (Slovenia)
Tokaj (Hungary)
Green Veltliner (Austria)
Schiava Gentile (Alto Adige)

Beer
Original Pilsner (Czech Republic)
Original Budweiser Budvar (Czech Republic)

Then, he stands ready to take your order.

Comments

[herr_bookman]

"Ah, but you forget, in the Cult of Help there is always someone who steps in," Autor says. "I bet you had someone aiding you with your own hangover as soon as I left."

[cook_the_rude]

"Of course there were," Hannibal says. "This is the official religion of Milliways, you might say."

[herr_bookman]

"No, you might say that," Autor says. "Still. Congratulations on your anointment."

He tilts his head, and brings his book up to his face again. "Actually, the more apt comparison for you might be Chief Zookeeper. You've got them eating out of your hands, and they don't even know they have cages to rattle."

[cook_the_rude]

"My dear Autor, you are really very paranoid," Dr. Lecter says. "You need help. Not necessarily mine, as I appear to be an object of your paranoia."

[herr_bookman]

"Ah, right," he says, adjusting his glasses. "We are in public, aren't we?"

He shakes his head, and glances at the menu. "A water, please."

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter pulls out a nice blue bottle, cracks it open with a hiss, and pours the sparkling water into a glass, leaving about half in the bottle.

Then, he pushes both over towards Autor.

[herr_bookman]

"You spoil the fungi, too?" he murmurs, blinking. "That's rather elegant. Thank you."

He's fairly certain it will be the best water he's ever had in his life.

[cook_the_rude]

"Did you expect tap water?" Hannibal asks, sounding amused.

[herr_bookman]

"Yes?" Autor says, examining the bottle. "You don't need to prove any point as far as I can tell, and in no way would I wish you to spoil me."

[cook_the_rude]

"Why should I not give you something better?" Dr. Lecter says. "You wouldn't seriously expect otherwise."

[herr_bookman]

"It's true," Autor says, "your cages are very comfortable."

[cook_the_rude]

"I think," Dr. Lecter says, in a gentle voice, "now you definitely took a wrong turn somewhere, mentally."

Beat.

"Is there a doctor you trust?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor sighs at him. "Good night, Dr. Lecter," he says. He places his nose back in his book and starts to drift off.

[cook_the_rude]

"Autor, you start worrying me," Dr. Lecter says. "In a way, you're no better off, mentally, than poor Inspector Javert."

[herr_bookman]

"I did wonder when you'd start comparing me to him," Autor murmurs.

"This trick is old," he says, setting his book down to hide his clenched fists. "Come up with something new to make me jump."

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter sighs deeply.

"Something in you still knows that your soul has gone astray," he says. "I'd like to appeal to that part to get help. From anybody. I would never suggest myself, what with all the negative transference that has already happened."

[herr_bookman]

"Oh, yes, by all means, let's hurt him, pretend we didn't, and then shunt him off to an acolyte," Autor says, and then startles. "Oh."

[cook_the_rude]

"You really, really worry me," Dr. Lecter says, shaking his head again.

[herr_bookman]

"Oh, I bet I do," Autor says, swooping down to snatch up the water. "It's your job to worry about the outcasts from the religion."

[cook_the_rude]

"You are clinging to that metaphor very desperately, are you?" Hannibal says.

"Autor, really, can't you see what you are doing to yourself here?"

[herr_bookman]

"That's a good question," Autor says, staring at the bottle. "I think... I think I'm letting myself be abused."

He furrows his brow, lost for a moment, and then nods curtly. "Good night, Dr. Lecter."

The boy carefully sets the spring water down on the bar and flies away, looping up over the rafters.

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter heavers a deep sigh, looking very worried, before turning to the next customer.