The Devil's Nest, Saturday, March 16

[nookiepowered]

Tiny had lost a bet.

You don't need to know what the bet was.

You don't want to know what the bet was.

You do want to know what the stakes would have been if Bo hadn't won, but you're not going to find out.

All you need to know is that your comparatively small female bartender was currently painting the fingernails of your very large male bouncer.

Dark, dark purple as a base coat, but then she was thinking either some blue-green iridescent flake glitter, or a periwinkle crackle.

Maybe both?

Comments

The Bar [3/16]

[nookiepowered]

Where your bartender was giving serious thought to the gold crackle, too.

The Dance Floor [3/16]

[nookiepowered]

Where the DJ had apparently started celebrating a day early, since he was trying to get people to dance to the Pogues, the Cranberries, and ....seriously, the Irish Rovers?

Which, okay, fine, even Bo stopped nailpainting long enough to sing along with that one song about Noah and the unicorns, but unless you were Michael Flatley, you couldn't dance to that.

The VIP Area [3/16]

[nookiepowered]

Where there might or might not be a vampire who wouldn't really mind the gold crackle, since it would set off his hair.

OOC [3/16]

[nookiepowered]

No one tell the DJ that song was actually written by Shel Silverstein.