Bartending!

[bad_in_latin]

Mal is in a rather cheerful mood tonight, and he offers the following specials:

Any drink with an animal in its name is half-price. Bonus points for horses.

What? He's a weird one.

[ooc: On until 12 am EST.]

Comments

[thegreatmachine]

"You know a drink with a horse in it?" says the guy in the crumpled suit who settles on a stool.

[bad_in_latin]

"Tons, actually. If you tell me what sort o' liquor you like, I can think of somethin' for ya."

Mal's a helpful sort of person, on the whole.

"Also Tequila is my horse's name out back, so that just adds an extra layer of amusin'."

[thegreatmachine]

"Anything with SoCo in there?" he asks tiredly.

[bad_in_latin]

"But of course -- somethin' called a 'Horse and Jockey'..." and Mal turns away from the customer, digging out the rum and bitters.

"Ain't never had this kind of rum before beyond the SoCo, but it sure smells nice," he offers, sliding the glass to the man. "Lemme know if you like it."

[creator_raven]

Raven drops into a seat, head tilting to read the specials.

He blinks, fishing in his pocket.

"Very small horses are also all right, yes?"

[bad_in_latin]

"...No. You are not drowning a pony from your pocket in liquor," Mal stamps out firmly.

[creator_raven]

Raven does not look at all sulky.

Um.

" . . . Hamsters are less upsetting?"

[bad_in_latin]

"Hamsters won't fit in the glass," Mal points out.

He will make sure of it.

Somehow.

[mend_and_defend]

It's pretty late in the evening when the back door opens and Bob comes staggering in. From the way he's moving, he's already pretty drunk.

The apron and chef's hat got removed at some point, but he's still wearing that stupid sign that Enzo gave him.

[bad_in_latin]

...

"Uh. Bob?"

[mend_and_defend]

It takes Bob a moment to locate the source of the sound.

"Yeah?"

[bad_in_latin]

"You got a..."

Mal points vaguely first to Bob's sign, then where Bob's sign would be around Mal's own neck.

"...You got a thing."

[skidrowseymour]

A young man - glasses, mussed hair, wearing a bright orange jacket over a scrawny frame - sits at the bar.

He watches the bartender anxiously for a moment. Then finally he gives a hesitant, "Excuse me...?"

[bad_in_latin]

"...Yup?"

The first comment Mal's subconscious makes to his conscious is Whoa. Big glasses.

What comes out is, "Can I help you?"

[skidrowseymour]

As if to emphasize them, Seymour adjusts his glasses - all of his fingers are covered in Band-Aids.

"Yeah. I'll just take a minute of your time, don't worry. Just wondering what would be a good drink to get...uh, really drunk, really fast?"

[bad_in_latin]

Mal eyes the man who is eyeing him back -- how can he not, really? -- and doesn't precisely answer Seymour's question.

"Can I ask why that might be a goal o' yours? It never works out well, in the end."