(no subject)
Ray still isn't sure about this place, even on its good days. It's just not natural, birds in pubs; and everything else is a bit strange as well. So, when he walks in to see the whole place looking like it was decorated with what was at the bottom of Jon Pertwee's cupboards, he almost turns right around and walks back out. Except there's no door there anymore. Bugger.
He eyes a few moving bits, and warily approaches the bar.
"Pint of bitter, luv."
Well, at least that much is still working. And then the vidscreens come down, and Ray's whole face screws up in a frown. He reads the explanation, and reviews the choices. "You're havin' me on!" Come on, this can't be serious. "Ohh no." He laughs. No. No, no, no. He likes his bollocks right where they are, even if the thought of being able to bend that far to give them a good clean is fleetingly attractive. But - all this sci-fi rubbish? No. No bloody way.
He reaches to tap the big "NO" button and knocks his glass. Shit, he's got beer all over something that looks more expensive than he wants to contemplate right now. It'll be all right if he gives it a dry down with his sleeve, aye? Just a bit of a...
His thumb brushes one of the options, it glows green for a moment, and before he can say 'Bob's your uncle' Ray Carling is feeling half the man he once was.
"BLOODY HELL!"
[ OoC: Will be around off and on aaaaall day. Open forever. And ever. ... And ever. ]
He eyes a few moving bits, and warily approaches the bar.
"Pint of bitter, luv."
Well, at least that much is still working. And then the vidscreens come down, and Ray's whole face screws up in a frown. He reads the explanation, and reviews the choices. "You're havin' me on!" Come on, this can't be serious. "Ohh no." He laughs. No. No, no, no. He likes his bollocks right where they are, even if the thought of being able to bend that far to give them a good clean is fleetingly attractive. But - all this sci-fi rubbish? No. No bloody way.
He reaches to tap the big "NO" button and knocks his glass. Shit, he's got beer all over something that looks more expensive than he wants to contemplate right now. It'll be all right if he gives it a dry down with his sleeve, aye? Just a bit of a...
His thumb brushes one of the options, it glows green for a moment, and before he can say 'Bob's your uncle' Ray Carling is feeling half the man he once was.
"BLOODY HELL!"
[ OoC: Will be around off and on aaaaall day. Open forever. And ever. ... And ever. ]