Sunday night bartending.

[bad_in_latin]

Mal got creative today; he brought his own sign to work, drawn out by long brushstrokes in varied colors.

It's Chinese New Year for some of you.

Chinese is nice.

Specials
China Village Mai Tai
China White
Leap Year

OR, say something in Chinese and your drink is half-off.

Welcome to bartending.

[ooc: it will likely be an early night, but am

Comments

[gammagammahey]

Wow. First the totally METAL concert, and now a shiny bartending sign. Jen's getting to like Milliways.

"You shen me pi jiu?" Jen tries.

"Seu carregador está no fogo," she adds. Because she's fond of Portuguese.

[bad_in_latin]

"I...didn't quite catch that first one," Mal admits.

Beat. "And I got no ruttin' idea 'bout the second. Duibuqi."

[gammagammahey]

"You shen me pi jiu," Jen repeats, smiling. "I thought it meant 'what kind of beer do you have?' Got any Skrull pale ale?"

She also told him that his boot was on fire in Portuguese, but since it isn't, she'll let that one lie.

[bad_in_latin]

"Ah, I see. And shi a, think I do."

Lo and behold, a glass of the ale preferred appears before Jen.

"Sorry 'bout the mixup, with the Chinese. Sometimes it's hard to tell, with accents."

[gammagammahey]

It's been a while since Jen's had a glass of Skrull ale, since the usual sources are located a few hundred light years from her Earth, and the Skrull are a tad touchy when it comes to importing alcoholic beverages to backwater Terrans.

She takes a curious sip. Yep, just as she remembers it. She bends over, blushing a slightly darker shade of green.

"This'll take the carbon scoring off your mothership," she coughs, when the ability to speak returns.

[bad_in_latin]

Mal cocks an eyebrow.

"Maybe I should tell my mechanic about that stuff."

[gammagammahey]

"Only if you want your intake valves turned into their constituent atoms," she replies. "This stuff could stop Galactus."

But still, it's delicious, in an insanely dangerous sort of way. And sometimes fatal to humans.

She wipes her watering eyes after another sip, and smiles. "Hi. I'm Jen."

[bad_in_latin]

"Mal Reynolds."

He's actually mentally back on her first statement.

"How can you be drinkin' it then?"

[gammagammahey]

"Sheer willpower."

That and a huge bombardment of gamma radiation.

"Well, not really. My stomach lining is a little...on the tough side, due to certain Life Events."

[bad_in_latin]

She is green, Mal.

"Alright then."

Beat. "Life Events only got me the innate capacity to pop my shoulder in and out o' socket."

[gammagammahey]

"That's a good thing in a fight. You can completely shock your opponent with a well-placed 'POP' sound."

There is a knowing, philosophical nod.

"Life Events also got me a purple Cadillac, a therapy bill bigger than the Gross National Product of the United States, and drafted into a hostile supra-national military organization."

They can go at this all night, you know.

[bad_in_latin]

"You win."

Well, Mal could still compete, but he's not sure it's ultimately worth it.

[gammagammahey]

"Hah! Concession! That's the high point of my week so far." She takes another appreciative sip, and this time there's just the slightest wince as the fermented equivalent of white hot plasma makes its way down her throat.

"This is the first time I've ever seen anyone bartend here. I'm still new."

[bad_in_latin]

"Been comin' here almost two years now," Mal nods. "There's more bartenders now than there had been -- I've only been doin' this job for about a month or so."

[gammagammahey]

"Really? As a full time job? Can you come and go at will?"

A deeply satisfying warmth is working its way through her body, driving all muscle tension before it.

[bad_in_latin]

"Only once a week, but yes -- I captain a ship at home, and I don't think my crew'd be very happy with the bar if I couldn't come back to order 'em all about."

Or something like that.