Killing sprees, huh? That's so last season.
[Buffy sighs, and the journal picks up the gentle clinking of glasses.] Well, I'm a bit more used to--y'know--beating up bartenders for info but now that I am one? Hmm. If anyone's got some juicy knowledge on the murders, swing by Good Spirits and give a girl a hand with her investigating, okay?
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[That seemed to be enough tough-guy talk.] It's called a McCoy. It's a drink I created. And named after this guy I know.
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[ He's touched, really. ]
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[Watch this failtastic display of trying to maintain a secret identity even though she's already been outed. By herself.]
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[ Yeah, he's doing the journal equivalent of hanging up on you now after that. And show up in the bar a little while after this. ]
I thought you would have learnt a bit more after that chess game the other day, Summers.
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[Making you a McCoy? You can bet she is.]
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Not the bar tending bit.
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[The drink made, she slides a McCoy over to him.]
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[ He tips his drink as he proclaims that sarcastic observation before giving it a try... after a dubious sniff beforehand. ]
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Tastes good.
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