milliways_bar | (no subject)

As much as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't getting sick, Tommy wasn't immune to that weird flu that's been going around after all.

Because now his name isn't Tommy. It's Wayne.

And after several days of not shaving in his flu-ridden delirium, he decided to give himself a mustache.

"Aw, c'mon, Miss Bar," he says, his usually rapid New York City bark replaced with a slow, Midwestern drawl. "You can't deny a fella just one sip of whiskey, now can you?"

A napkin appears. Yes, she can. Because of reasons.

Wayne sighs. Deeply, and sadly. Almost depressive, defeated. His shoulders hunched over, he slouches on a bar stool and lights a cigarette with tremulous fingers.

And yes, he's wearing a straw cowboy hat.

[OOC: Probably one of the last victims of the IMDb flu! Tommy is now Wayne from a movie called Jesus' Son.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Heh, I s'pose so."

Touching the brim of his hat, he offers her a hand (while secretly wondering how she gets her hair so high up like that).

"Name's Wayne. What's yours?"

The hair's a family secret; her daughter's own mane's about as giant. "Well, I know so. My littles munchkin's almost twelve and he still cries when we watch the Goonies."

She offers him her own hand. "Beverly Goldberg."