A Poet Walks Into a Bar . . .

[butters]

I hope so.
one would be bad
but three, Picasso

Picasso's total recall *sniggers*

 

[HarryHill]

Picasso's total recall *sniggers*

...
Serves one buttery slippery nipple then the other, lays some photographs out on the bar, studies them*

 

[butters]

...
Serves one buttery slippery nipple then the other, lays some photographs out on the bar, studies them*

i think i need a drink.

 

[HarryHill]

i think i need a drink.

Something stronger?

 

[butters]

Something stronger?

something with a bit of a kick; one that'll hit me right upside the brain

please, thankyou, ta, now.

 

[HarryHill]

something with a bit of a kick; one that'll hit me right upside the brain

please, thankyou, ta, now.

..
ta? your drink? *closes fb, removes key from couch places it on a hook under the bar, goes into backroom*

 

[butters]

..
ta? your drink? *closes fb, removes key from couch places it on a hook under the bar, goes into backroom*

ta = thankyou, an east end london cliché

*notes where the key went*

 

[HarryHill]

ta = thankyou, an east end london cliché

*notes where the key went*

..
thought it meant goodbye *mutters something about braille, pours two Tequila shots, drinks, pours another, sets the bottle handy*

 

[butters]

..
thought it meant goodbye *mutters something about braille, pours two Tequila shots, drinks, pours another, sets the bottle handy*

i was wondering how long you were going to be out there. i almost came over the bar to find out what was keepin' you

bottoms up!

 

[butters]

grapes!

*goes find some*

 

[HarryHill]

i was wondering how long you were going to be out there. i almost came over the bar to find out what was keepin' you

bottoms up!

..
*drinks, pours two more*

 

[HarryHill]

grapes!

*goes to find some*

grapes?

 

[butters]

..
*drinks, pours two more*

you know, this braille thing - it's even harder in french

*downs shot and places glass top down*

if i were saying goodbye, ta wouldn't quite cover things.

i has grapes! want a grape, harry?

 

[HarryHill]

you know, this braille thing - it's even harder in french

*downs shot and places glass top down*

if i were saying goodbye, ta wouldn't quite cover things.

i has grapes! want a grape, harry?

..
*turns glass over fills it*
I'd love a grape.

 

[butters]

..
*turns glass over fills it*
I'd love a grape.

*pops a seedless, chilled from the fridge, bursting with sweet, fresh flavours green grape between harry's lips*

*looks at glass* you tryin' to get me derrrrrrunk, 'tender? *sips*

 

[butters]

\thinkbubble: hmmn, strip-chess.../thinkbubble

 

[HarryHill]

*pops a seedless, chilled from the fridge, bursting with sweet, fresh flavours green grape between harry's lips*

*looks at glass* you tryin' to get me derrrrrrunk, 'tender? *sips*

*chomps, looks at bunch*
Just trying to relax you before bed time. *looks at watch* time for my break, going for a sandwich in the back room, join me?

 

[WearMeWell]

peeks in. looks at Harry and Butters- waits for them to see me. Hi. *points to the couch. "all good??"

 

[butters]

*chomps, looks at bunch*
Just trying to relax you before bed time. *looks at watch* time for my break, going for a sandwich in the back room, join me?

*nods...*

 

[HarryHill]

peeks in. looks at Harry and Butters- waits for them to see me. Hi. *points to the couch. "all good??"

Perfect. pour yourself a shot, we'll be right back

 

[butters]

Perfect. pour yourself a shot, we'll be right back

whispers: what sandwiches ya got, harry?

 

[HarryHill]

whispers: what sandwiches ya got, harry?

Leads her away, quiet talking in back room

 

[HarryHill]

*Walks out of back room, leans on bar*
Butters caught a cab home from out the back door, said to tell you bye, early morning for her. you must be a westcoaster. Cocktail?

 

[WearMeWell]

slips back in and sits quietly; lost in my thoughts~ mind running, thinking that i stepped off on the wrong foot here. doesnt even dare a look at the couch.

 

[HarryHill]

slips back in and sits quietly; lost in my thoughts~ mind running, thinking that i stepped off on the wrong foot here. doesnt even dare a look at the couch.

..
you're fine it's just the poets, pensive bunch. glad you came back. *pours a coffee* give us a rhyme. We love the couch. I've hidden the key from Annie so you need not fear for your, ah ... *sips*