!dC3BVWSZ.I 12/12/11(Mon)21:28 No.17195171|
You approach the short, stalky man and give him a pat on the back.
"McGregor! What's going on buddy?! Bartender, serve me and my buddies here a glass of the best you got."
"Oi! I see the lot of you have been readjusting nicely to the front. Why, I've been toiling down in the-" a hushed look strikes his face, "err, I suppose you boys aren't supposed to know about those yet. Come! Let us wash the mud away with this booze."
The bartender serves you four glasses of cheap, unappealing liquor brewed in makeshift stills here in the first line. Such drink is common in the first, as the high brass tend not to stray this close to the real danger.