Happy Hour!

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

Eddie's behind the bar, just now shelving the last of his bartender's references and beginning to chalk up tonight's specials.

Specials:

Chocolate Covered Cherry
Carmel Candy Apple
Peach Death

He throws a towel over his shoulder and faces the bar again. "Good evening, folken. Happy Hour is now open. Welcome to Milliways, everybody."

[OOC: ETA: DAMN. Sorry, but I'm having a migraine and associated lousiness. Happy Hour is canceled and I'll slow time the threads that do exist. Good night.]

Comments

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

Martin takes a seat at the bar, wriggling out of his straight jacket, that the nice man unbuckled for him earlier, and setting it on the bar.

"Hello," he says. "I had food the last time I was here. That was good."

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

Eddie looks at the straitjacket serruptitiously. "What kind of food?"

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

"Dunno. It was good. I think the man called it Full English Breakfast. Are there other kinds? Oh, and he told me about something called Pixy Sticks."

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

Bar produces a nice breakfast.

The crazy man does not get pixie sticks.

"There you go."

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

"Thanks," Martin says. "Could I have some milk to go with it?"

He starts eating the meal like he's starving, barely using the fork.

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

"Sure." Eddie gets the milk from...somewhere, wherever it comes from for White Russians, and pours him some.

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

"Thanks," Martin ignores the glass, and just reaches over and takes the pitcher of milk, drinking directly from it. "S'good. S'only the second time I can ever remember eating."

And it shows in his manners.

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

"...do you have amnesia?"

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

"I don't know," Martin says with a full mouth and a shrug. "I remember being here before. And I know... stuff. But I don't know where I came from before I came here, and I don't know where I go when I'm not here."

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

"That sounds awkward," Eddie says sympathetically, glancing at the straitjacket again.

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

"I guess."

Martin doesn't seem overly concerned.

"Hey! Can you do this?"

He curls his tongue in the strange parody of the article in the Cosmopolitan magazine that the nice man in the corner showed him.

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

"Um. I don't know, I've never tried."

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

"Try it! It's hard!"

Martin looks at the bartender expectantly while continuing to eat. There's nothing suggestive in his behavior...just genuine excitement at learning a new trick.

[no-prisoner.livejournal.com]

"....I think I'm good."

[mad-martin.livejournal.com]

Martin might look slightly disappointed, but lets it go.

"Are there other kinds of food?" His plate is almost empty. "I don't remember this kind before."

He stabs a slice of cantaloupe and hold it up.