Peace out, bitches. (drsnarkfest) wrote in endofworldbar, @ 2009-05-23 22:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | greg house (vs) |
So, a woman walks into the bar.
No, now, wait, it gets better. See, this particular woman hadn't been a woman, at the start of the day. The woman was, in fact, the usually-grumpy but decidedly male face that seemed to be one of Bar's favorites. But of course said man was never happy with his lot in life, and lacking the pills and alcohol that usually kept him sane, had begged the bar for 'something, anything' to take the pain away.
He should have been skeptical of the bottle of whiskey that appeared, as good as having a 'drink me' sign on it, but then that was like throwing a coconut cream pie in the face of a starving man. It took about five minutes for the almost-familiar feeling of difference to set in- and then an hour after that for Greg to convince the bar to give him clothes he might actually consider wearing in front of someone else. But with that done- well, he was finally out of pain. In fact, she was actually not injured at all- and seemed able to get all the drinks she wanted from the Bar.
So there the woman was- at the bar, nursing a beer, plate of onion rings to one side, sudoku puzzle at the other. Neglecting the longer hair, and obviously female curves, it wasn't really hard to see who he- she- was. And for once, she seemed in good spirits. It might be smart to walk softly, though- it had been a couple days. She was out of practice, with the whole 'socialization' thing.