Gaius gasped as he was suddenly twisted around so that his face was smashed against the bar's countertop. He made a good clunking sound with his forehead. But this was nothing new to Gaius Baltar. He was frequently the victim of rough-housing. (It was easy to pick on the scientist. -- Especially the crazy traitorous scientist.)
"What are you doing? This isn't civil!"
And for a moment he was wondering if maybe he was still locked up in the brig on Galactica.
And where was she? Where was his blonde angel sent to protect him through times of trouble and physical pain? She was off with that other fellow's imaginary friend. Disgusting.
"You wouldn't dare throw me out! Do you know who I am?! I'm Gaius Baltar! I was President of the Twelve Colonies!"