He smiles again, this time a touch wry. He does not comment on foolishness-- though he stiffens, a little, as if he might be considering saying something. The moment passes.
"Known each other three years! He was a philosophy student. It was a sad day when his Gandhi poster died. I had to get him drunk and draw on his face to get him over that one."
"But as much as I love the guy, his New Age learning does hinder him in any Old Testament debate."
He already has a mug of blood and a beer sitting on the counter, waiting for McKinley.
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"I didn't know you worked here."
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Yeah, he totally works here. He pretty much does anyway, since he is here all the time.
"Come here and have a drink, then. You look like you could need one." He pats the counter nearest him with a free seat.
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"I'm afraid I don't have much of anything to offer for it."
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"Sit down, Father."
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"I really can't accept anything from you. But thank you all the same."
He sighs, glancing around.
"Is everything all right here?"
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The drinks don't move.
"No one is bleeding. I haven't had to break up the kids yet because Tommy Vamp is on Dougy Wolf's side of the room again."
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He smiles again, this time a touch wry. He does not comment on foolishness-- though he stiffens, a little, as if he might be considering saying something. The moment passes.
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Because he notices.
"You haven't had anyone to debate theology with in a long time, have you? Wait, wait. Strike that. You haven't had anyone debate you in a long time."
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"Known each other three years! He was a philosophy student. It was a sad day when his Gandhi poster died. I had to get him drunk and draw on his face to get him over that one."
"But as much as I love the guy, his New Age learning does hinder him in any Old Testament debate."
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Does that ever explain a lot.
McKinley smiles wryly. \"I suppose it would. But what makes you think I\'m looking for a debate in the first place?
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