Good morning. Happy Sunday. Et cetera, et cetera.
My dear barman-in-arms, Zack, has already intro'd you fine folks to the equally fine watering-hole we like to call Good Spirits. So here's me -- Buffy Summers -- with a bit of a follow-up question
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And I can loan you my grandmother's stuffing recipe if you want it.
[Yeah, that almost sounded like normal, right? He's still missing things, but has decided the best way to deal with it is to just...keep on keeping on. He's gotten a few more insights, so maybe the rest will come with time...]
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[ she had been hoping to hear from derek. her voice betrays it. ]
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All right, then. I'll get it to you in the next day or so. Gotta make sure I remember it right first.
[Which means he'll probably need to test out a small batch to make sure.]
How's it going?
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[ hello, slayer metabolism. she can put almost anything in her system and stay fighting fit. ]
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Probably not so well, though they've certainly had worse times upon them.
Later on, he will show up at Good Spirits and sit in his usual spot.
"OI! WOMAN! APPLE...apple...APPLE PIE CIDER. NOW. FOR MYSELF."
No one ever said he handled things in a sensitive manner.
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"Do you need me to start listing the reasons why an outburst like that will never ever get you served?"
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The list, not the cider."
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But she straightened once again and reached for a wide, wide mug. "You are allowed to say please, you know. So maybe we've been over this before but I think it bears retreading."
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buffy stammers: ] It means...huh. Boozing a drink up means turning it into a drink for grown ups. That's all. But I'm pretty sure marshmallowy hot chocolate tastes better.
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