The Comedian / Watchmen / That Bar Place
For the sake of exposition, he's been here before. Maybe not in this mode of dress, maybe not at his current age, but he's been here before.
The (probably bigger than it needs to be) shotgun in his right hand is swung up into the air, following the trail of smoke from the cigar clamped between his lips, before it comes to rest on his shoulder. He pauses, as if he'd like to stand in the doorway and simply bask in the presence of a bar that will serve him whatever the fuck he wants, before he decides that he would much rather be doing that while at Lady Bar herself.
And so, towards the bourbon it is.
The (probably bigger than it needs to be) shotgun in his right hand is swung up into the air, following the trail of smoke from the cigar clamped between his lips, before it comes to rest on his shoulder. He pauses, as if he'd like to stand in the doorway and simply bask in the presence of a bar that will serve him whatever the fuck he wants, before he decides that he would much rather be doing that while at Lady Bar herself.
And so, towards the bourbon it is.