[The scene is the inside of a rather fanciful Mexican dive bar. Dracula, hair down and askew and a sloppy smile on his face, occasionally swings into view as the camera wobbles around. He has a big bone vuvuzela propped on one shoulder and a very squawky bone parrot on the other.]
Drake! I found you a pet! Isn't he charming?
"AWRK! Bite me."
[He
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Now she finds herself without her warden, a man-- despite being an Earther-- who she had come to rely upon and perhaps almost like.
To this end, now that she has found the little thing that she was sent out to find, she will now be renewing-- despite Spacer philosophies eschewing caffeine, alcohol, and other consciousness-altering substances-- her acquaintance with alcohol. She is dead; it is, she reasons, a safe state in which to conduct such experiments.]
Count! [She sits down at the bar, ramrod straight.] Good afternoon; I wish to join you.
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[He cocks his head, and his smile wavers slightly.] You are most welcome, by all means. I'll even behave. Mostly. I am drunk, but not without my manners. [A little bow that nearly knocks him off his stool.]
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She gives him a regal look.]
Please do mind your manners. I am here to experience intoxication, not flirtation.
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Vodka. Hm. I could probably talk my Warden into supplying some, I haven't really asked for anything in a while.
I want a shower too. Aren't they wonderfully convenient? Except I always want to use all the hot water.
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