We drink and we drive and we puke and we drink, hey!
Therav's head turned because he heard yet another Andorian drinking song.
It was this one.
Bugger Off
( Lyrics to song behind cut. )
It was this one.
Bugger Off
( Lyrics to song behind cut. )
As Diziara put on the helmet, the human singers (glad that she was distracted from throwing things at them) launched into another song. "I am a Vulcan from a universe parallel to this one,"
Evil Storvik answered her first question. "Recently, I have been working with this universe's Starfleet Command and Vulcan Science Academy - for certain values of 'recently', depending upon your temporal point-of-view. Although they might prefer that my origin and assistance remain secret, they have never actually ordered me not to discuss it with anyone else. If this bothers them … I have learned many 'colorful metaphors' on the
USS Murgatroid with which I can respond to them as to the value I place upon their preferences."
Evil Storvik donned his own hat, in a shade of deep red. "If you object to its appearance on your head, I suspect that your objections will lessen as you make more use of it." Some of the other bar patrons began to stare…
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OOC: Now I have a headache, and I wrote an entry summarizing the craziness. You've cracked me, you have. Also, I am most sad that I don't remember which box my Klingon Dictonary is in, talking about Starfleet is one of the times Diziara gets the most colorful in her metaphors.
IC: Diziara waved Wade over, and asked for something called everclear. "They briefed us on the mirror universe in the academy, but I haven't bothered to keep up with it since then because the fleet gets into your face if they find out you had any contact with it..." She considered a moment, fingering an bowl of peanuts as if trying to decide if she should chuck a handful at the horrible singers. "They're not going to interrogate me just because I talked to you, are they? I've already got one reprimand on my record for decking of of those upper brass petaQ, I don't need another."
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Operating under the command of a remote and unauthorized user, the bar's security sensors focused on the bottle of Romulan ale sitting on the table between
Diziara,
Evil Storvik, and
Therav (who had not yet donned his black helmet). Once the exact location of the bottle had been determined, the trio once again heard the whine of a transporter beam as approximately one quarter of the bottle's contents disappeared. The Vulcan, unsurprised, explained to the others, "I suspect that was meant to be in payment for the hats."
***
In the station's sickbay, Doctor
Mib Khan invoked the Emergency Medical Hologram. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the EMH said.
"I'm thirsty and all out of Romulan Ale," the doctor replied. "Since you're unaffected by transporter beams, I need you to stand right here and cup your hands like so…" Khan manipulated some controls on his computer, and the medical transporter materialized a quantity of Romulan Ale in midair above the EMH's hands.
"This is not part of my job description," complained the hologram as he poured the blue liquid into a waiting beaker. "I'm a doctor, not a bartender."
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"There is actually more than one 'Mirror Universe',"
Evil Storvik explained, "as universes continue to branch over time. I have seen the reports of the 'other' Mirror Universe's incursions at station Deep Space Nine; apparently, in that universe, the Terran Empire collapsed. In my universe, something different happened after your Captain Kirk's involvement, as my Empire still stands." The Vulcan poured some everclear into the cup on one side of his helmet, and juice onto the other side. "I shall see how well this mechanism can mix drinks," he explained. "To continue, the fleet knows that I have been to this station before, but they are attempting to keep events surrounding my universe's incursions secret. I suspect that, as long as you don't bring yourself to the fleet's attention, they won't bother you about it." He made a few experimental sips from the straw. "Fascinating. By controlling how much suction I exert with each of my lungs, I can control the relative quantities of juice and alcohol that I drink."
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IC:"Leave it to the brass to glaze over details like multiple alternative universes. I suppose it keeps the greenhorns from investigating," Diziara emptied a quanity of everclear into each cup on her hat, then considered what she wanted to mix in, not being in the mood for the stuff straight.
"Wade, do you have any Apple Cider, Apple Juice, cinnamon sticks and sugar? I want an Apple Pie." Wade shrugged and headed off to see what she could find. "You know, when I read up on these stupid things during my 20th earth studies course at the Acad, I never expected to be using one."
OOC: Having no real experince with this everclear stuff myself, wikipedia has happily provided me with recipes of drinks Dizi might try. Everclear on Wikipedia.
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"Observe," said
Evil Storvik, as he leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
He tipped his head slightly to one side and sucked on the straw, but only one of his cheeks was indented. Through the translucent plastic straw,
Diziara and
Therav could see an orange fluid travelling into the Vulcan's mouth. "When I suck with my left lung, I get juice."
He tipped his head slightly to the other side and sucked on the straw again, and this time it was only the other cheek which was indented. This time, a clear liquid flowed through the straw. "When I suck with my right lung, I get the grain alcohol."
Wade the bartender chuckled to himself. From his vantage point behind
Evil Storvik, he could see that the Vulcan was merely pinching one, then the other, straw shut with his fingers.
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OOC: psst, Wade's female. ;) I'm sure you remember "Is that your way of telling a gal you'd fuck her if she had a dick?"
IC:"Now, let's see you get some of each in varying amounts at the same time," Diziara challenged. She still couldn't believe she was actually wearing this silly hat, let alone actually drinking out of it. At least her choice of mixed drink to fill it with was sufficiently trashy to match.
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IC: Evil Storvik partially pinches the straws to regulate the amounts he's drinking, but sees that she's not convinced. "A simple test to see how well you were paying attention," he said, and she can almost hear a hint of a smile in his voice even though his face remains deadpan.
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Diziara leaned over and draped an arm around Therav's shoulders. "Can you believe the fools this Vulcan takes us for?" Diziara grabbed a handful of peanuts from the little bowl in the middle of the table, and chucked them at "evil" Storvik. "Why don't you try that again with your hands where I can see 'em?"
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"It's called Everclear, an Earth grain liquor, 190 proof. If anything will get you drunk, this will." Diziara removed her arm from around Therav's shoulder and gave him a playful punch in the upper arm as she said drunk.
As she continued to suck down the mixed drink in her hat, she started lining peanuts up on the table in front of her, and flicking them at "evil" Storvik at random intervals, trying to do it only when he was looking at something else.
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He began to line up and randomly flick peanuts back at her.
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Diziara snickers as she notices "evil" Storvik returning fire, and wonders if he realizes he's speaking aloud. "I am amused that you think that I need protections from peanuts being flicked at me. Were Klingons a weak and pathetic species in your universe? Even the half breeds aren't weak here," she leaned against the table to stare at him.
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