"Yesss, you got it!" Much said, clicking fingers on both hands and throwing two fingerguns her way as he backed toward one of the dvergar who was ordering drinks for the whole table. Part way through pouring the dozen pints (Much chatted as he pulled, and realised they had mutual friends in Freyja and Freyr) Lars pointed out it was almost time to ring for last drinks, and the dvergar insisted Much pull them all two pints each instead, and swore that the whole crowd of them would drink their last two pints just as quickly as they'd drink one. Much believed it entirely.
"They have literally drank one of our taps dry," he said as he returned to Qebhet, grinning at the dvergar balancing an epic number of glasses in his arms, his own arms going straight for the cocktail shaker. "You'll have to come back sometime and try some of our beers too. Not that I'm trying to talk you out of this mojito! Because this mojito's going to blow your socks off. Though honestly Qebhet, if you're wearing socks in this weather, you probably need to have them blown off." Much leaned across the bar to look down at her feet, and winked on his way back up, giving the shaker a serious rattling. He'd checked for socks as a joke, but, it did give him a closer look at her dress, and her legs underneath it, and it was all very nice he thought, without being too pervy about it.
"Alrighty, get a taste of this," Much said, pouring everything into a cool glass. "I thought about playing with the recipe a little, but then I thought, nah, this is exactly how I like it, so, here," he slid it over, and settled himself with his arms leaning on the bar again. "Tell me what it makes you think about?"