Laughing drunkenly, Wesley plink-plonked all over the piano. The bartender glowered at them from the counter, not enjoying the obnoxious and pisspoor music coming from the drunk wizard.
A breeze rustled Wesley's grass skirt, sending a chill up his back that originated from his buns. Going commando had not been the best idea.
"I bet I can play the piano with my dick," Wes chortled.