Günter's Hot Dog Stand - Stockholm, Sweden - Saturday Night

[not_ironmaiden]

With the sole purpose of letting his poor pilots have a job again, Tony and Tyler had gone to Sweden

Comments

[tyler_back]

Tyler leaned back against a lamp post to rest his eyes. "... what did you just say?"

he might have been forgetting things. Half a bottle of vodka and god knows how much on the flight over (they had to keep the slight attendants busy, too) did that to a man.

[not_ironmaiden]

It was sake, thank you. The good stuff.

"I'm ordering us food," Tony informed him, chin held high as though he wasn't nearly as trashed as Tyler.

[tyler_back]

Good sake, bad sake, after a while it was all just a buzz.

"The crab hot dogs?" he asked. "Good. Good. 's half the reason we're freezing our asses off here, isn't it?"

[not_ironmaiden]

Bite your tongue, Tyler!

"Hot dogs with crab salad on it." A beat. "...though that looks more like shrimp."