Fast Eddie's, Friday Night
Jono had threatened to drag Hannibal off to do something for his birthday, and really, there hadn't been many stipulations set down, beyond not deliberately increasing the population of the flamingos on Hannibal's lawn, given how old he was turning today. Jonothon was pretty certain he'd managed that much, and while he'd wanted to do something that was fiftieth-birthday-for-a-cultured-man appropriate, all that he'd been able to book, was... well...
//I won't make you put on the bowling shoes if you agree to play a round of billiards with me, mate.//
And he wouldn't even dream of trying to get Hannibal to eat the greasy arcade food. He knew better than that.
//I'll make it up to you? Er. Happy birthday.//
[OOC: Open party is open!]
//I won't make you put on the bowling shoes if you agree to play a round of billiards with me, mate.//
And he wouldn't even dream of trying to get Hannibal to eat the greasy arcade food. He knew better than that.
//I'll make it up to you? Er. Happy birthday.//
[OOC: Open party is open!]