"It's the Tawa," he stated as if it should be explanation enough why they'd want it to a giant innuendo. Lot didn't have much experience with creatives, he came for an academic background, one he was told would set him for life - there was no sense in being an artist if you couldn't make money...then again he'd made lots of money and look where it had gotten him. The numbers were buried inside a broken computer somewhere completely useless. All the money in the world wasn't going to help anyone now, maybe it was the dawn of the creative mind. He glanced around and thought perhaps the dawn of the drunk and disorderly too.
Lot looked emotionlessly at Hagar, right in the eyes, for a moment then took a swig of his drink, "I wouldn't put myself at anyones mercy Hagar," he said lightly, "You know that," he pushed the glass away but didn't ask for a refill, "As lovely as you are," he began but he didn't finish, not for fear of insulting her but because for as long as she'd been whoring he'd never once called upon her. Perhaps it was because they were near a similar age...or maybe it was because Lot was already giving his body to another during dreary nights.
He straightened up, "I am preparing for the party," he gestured around him, "Can you not see the festivities are already under way," the bar responded with silence and he actually gave a humoured smile, "Or at least they are beyond the stained walls of this boozy mausoleum,"