Killing sprees, huh? That's so last season.
[Buffy sighs, and the journal picks up the gentle clinking of glasses.] Well, I'm a bit more used to--y'know--beating up bartenders for info but now that I am one? Hmm. If anyone's got some juicy knowledge on the murders, swing by Good Spirits and give a girl a hand with her investigating, okay?
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Last time I checked? I was kinda lacking the pointy ears and tail to be considered even remotely feline. Try again.
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Deal with it. Or help someone else deal with it.
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One McCoy, please!
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Therefore, Buffy is happy to oblige and begins to painstakingly assemble the perfect McCoy. Otherwise known as a Southern Comfort, lemonade and lime.]
There you go. One McCoy, on the house.
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Hey! That's pretty good. Citrusy.
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[She so proud!]
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