(no subject)
It's been a little less than half a day since Shephard was in the Bar last. Time, what a weirdness she is. He's here today with his bow slung across his back and Mrs. Wilson at his heels. The houndeye is wearing a minimal harness of bright orange, just enough to go around her two front legs and provide an anchor for a good strong rope. It'd be a leash, but leashes aren't usually nearly so long as to be able to coil them up around your forearm.
"Hey, Bar?" the Marine says when he arrives. "You mind lettin' Evans'n Tsu'tey know I'm lookin' for 'em next time you see 'em?"
An acknowledging napkin pops up.
"Thank you kindly, ma'am. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gon' need me some balloons."
Those who head outside after this will be treated to the sight of not only a three-legged blue-striped Christmas ham full of eyeballs trotting around and periodically humming loudly, but also of a man in Marine Corps camouflage fatigues doing his best to reduce the balloon population by pinning inflated balloons to a haybale and then popping them with arrows fired from thirty or forty yards away.
This is Milliways. Some days are like that.
"Hey, Bar?" the Marine says when he arrives. "You mind lettin' Evans'n Tsu'tey know I'm lookin' for 'em next time you see 'em?"
An acknowledging napkin pops up.
"Thank you kindly, ma'am. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gon' need me some balloons."
Those who head outside after this will be treated to the sight of not only a three-legged blue-striped Christmas ham full of eyeballs trotting around and periodically humming loudly, but also of a man in Marine Corps camouflage fatigues doing his best to reduce the balloon population by pinning inflated balloons to a haybale and then popping them with arrows fired from thirty or forty yards away.
This is Milliways. Some days are like that.