WHO: Phineas and OPEN
WHERE: The Black Drum
WHEN: Early evening
He actually really shouldn’t be here. It’s beneath him. It’s not fitting for his kind. And it’s not like anyone won’t ever know because, c’mon, he knows more than anyone that someone is always watching.
But that dumb song is right. Sometimes you just want to go where everyone knows your name.
‘Phineas.’
‘Yep,’ he says, settling down warily on a stool.
He comes here too much. The bartender doesn’t even ask what he wants anymore. They have this little skit they play out every time, with the man getting him a whiskey and Phineas promising aloud to drink only one and drink it slowly. And the barkeep just dries a glass and shakes his head.
He shouldn’t be here. He should be out looking for something constructive to do, someone to help. God knows there are plenty of them out there.
But he doesn’t understand people anymore. They have changed so much over the past century, withdrawing into themselves, going through the day without so much as a smile or spoken courtesy to another, not their families, not their friends, not a stranger and espically not a stranger in a derby hat. And they’ve all got these stupid little things on their ears that they talk into and you can’t tell if their insane or not!
But there is one person who’s always consistent.
Jack Daniels.
Despite keeping his resolution to sip his whiskey slowly, he doesn’t take long for him to start feeling jovial.
His eyes sweep the room in search of someone to bother with his good mood.
Current Mood: 
weird
weird