fandomtownies | The Devil's Nest, Saturday, 8/20

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The Devil's Nest, Saturday, 8/20

Bo wasn't sure how much traffic there'd be tonight given the dance at the community center, but she still set out for work with plenty of time to spare.

Of course, that was before she ran into the gray-skinned guy in the milkman's uniform on the sidewalk outside her shop-turned-house, and there was a small misunderstanding with a knife and some pepper spray and the fact that it took her just a little too long for comfort (his) to realize he didn't have black eyes or claws or a tail.

Now Bo was rushing around trying to do her pre-opening cleanup long after opening, and Pete the Milkman was sitting in the back nursing the second of a string of free drinks to make up for his spectacularly monochrome black eye. She'd worry about it cutting into her tips if he wasn't drinking, well. Milk.

[Sorry for the lateness of the hour. This has been a day of not-goodness.]

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All drinks with milk in them 50% off. Because Bo managed to spill half a keg of it while tussling with the milkman, and made up for that by buying the thing off him.

"Hey," Dick said, taking a seat at the bar. "How's my favorite bartender tonight?"

"Aww, Tiny'll be so flattered you asked," Bo answered with a grin, fetching up an empty glass. "He went home early, Apparently the milkshake special didn't agree with him."

"If he's lactose intolerant, he really needs to watch stuff like that. Give him my regards," Dick said. "Okay, what about my second favorite? And why do you have a milkshake special?"

"Because it brings all the boys to the yard?" There were certain answers you couldn't not give, no matter how easy they were. "...Also because I accidentally mugged a milkman."

"I want to ask how you accidentally mug someone, but I think I want a drink first so I can really enjoy the story," Dick said. "I'll take one of the specials."

"I assume I don't have to give you the lactose intolerance warning, then." Bo headed for the ice cream, by way of the Godiva liqueur, because the Milkshake Special did not freaking mess around. "I wish I could say it's a fascinating tale, but it mostly comes down to 'He looked like he might be a monster.'"

"Well, that's disappointing. Now I need the drink to help me deal with that," Dick said.

A bit of blending and whirring later, there was a very alcoholic milkshake in front of him, with whipped cream and a cherry on top. "If it helps with the disappointment, he's the guy in grayscale sitting in the back. I put strawberry syrup in his milk and even that turned gray when he started drinking it."

"That's not something you see everyday. Well, besides this week," Dick said. "At least it's something different."

"It was interesting," Bo agreed, leaning against the bar, "Once I realized he wasn't gonna grow a tail and try to bite me. Bad timing, gray people. Bad timing."

"What did you think the milk was at first?" Dick asked.

Bo blinked at that. "I...milk, I guess? I kind of saw gray skin and went straight to crap, the creepy rock's back. If it managed to turn squirrels and deer and me into monsters, I wasn't gonna put evil milk past it."

"That makes sense. And taking over by force didn't work the first time, so why not go with evil milk?" Dick asked.

"...That you're serving me. If this is evil, you'll never hear the end of it." And then, naturally, he took a drink.

"If you turn gray and grow a tail, I promise beat you up gently." Bo was nice that way.

"No need," Dick said, making a face as he put the drink down. "I think the amount of alcohol in there had to sterilize the evil. It's definitely special, though, I'll give you that."

"And much more manly than an appletini." Bo might let that go someday. Today wasn't that day. "Milk builds strong bones and fangs -- I mean, teeth -- after all."

"Sounds like working in a vampire bar is starting to get to you," Dick said.

"More like living on this island is starting to get to me," Bo said, snapping teeth that weren't fangy at all, but used to be, two weeks ago. "As long as I can keep track of which weirdness is which, though, I'll be okay."

Where as if to make up for the distant sounds of the sock hop, the DJ was blasting the loudest, raunchiest acid rock he could find.

Where there might or might not be a vampire, but if there was, he was probably wearing shoes.

I'm going to have a very large margarita now.

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The Devil's Nest, Saturday, 8/20

The Bar

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The Dance Floor

The VIP Area

OOC