Fuck. Barty needed a drink. He stood from his desk and paced to his liquor cabinet to pull out the scotch. Pouring some over ice in a glass, he stowed the brandy back and lifted the glass to his lips to take a long drink. Pacing back, he leaned sideways against his desk, tucking his free hand in his trousers pocket.
"Something new, hm?" His eyebrows arched, intrigued. "What's might that be?"