Mal stared at his glass of whiskey as the another male came out to begin restocking, Mal's glass being lifted to his lips as the other began to speak, forcing the old ship captain to raise a brow and then shrugged, with a scoff, "Makes sense then. Supernaturals are all about making sure the world sees 'em." He took another drink, before looking to the other and raising a brow.
Guy looked familiar. No, not only did he look familiar, he looked like a rich kid throwing money around for crazy plots and over the top plans. Nodding his head he tilted his head, "All bars should be strictly for drinking; still, I guess I ain't ever been one to complain about a bar that gives me one. So I'll survive. How's your sister?"
He grinned a bit, realizing the kid hadn't recognized him yet or even bothered to look at him. Another long sip, he let out a breath, "I take it breakin' her out didn't help your own life much if you're stuck here cleaning out bars and restocking fridges. Not a very lucrative surgeon's life, is it?"