Pog Mahone's Irish Pub, Baltimore, Saturday Afternoon

[not_every_mage]

This was still the tackiest Irish-themed pub in America, just as it had been for Anders' and Edward's first visit the fall before. Almost everything that could be faded, scratched or dingy was, and the badly outdated St. Patrick's Day posters curled off the walls at their edges. But the beers were cheap, the bartenders were lax about carding, and Anders knew from past experience that the nachos were thick with melted cheese and gloppy guacamole.

It was, in other words, the perfect place to introduce Thorin to earth culture.

"They added a new type of nachos!" Anders exclaimed with some delight, as he squinted at the menu. "Irish. With ... potato slices, cheese and bacon. We have to try those, don't we?"

[OOC: For those named. NFB due to distance.]

Comments

[dwarvenswagger]

"That isn't a word," Thorin informed Edward imperiously. But he kindly tried to figure out which plate Anders was talking about. Failing at that, he gave Anders the jalapeno poppers instead.

Oops?

"Dwarves have beards." Duh. "That includes ladies."

[doesnotkneel]

Edward sighed and shook his head. He was rapidly losing interest in this particular argument, so he leaned over and...

Ordered more rum. Like a sane, sensible person who was utterly set on having the world's most epic hangover.

[not_every_mage]

Anders took the popper, bit into it, and realized his mouth was on fire.

So of course he did the sensible thing, which was clambering back onto his barstool with some difficulty and emptying whatever glass was nearest straight down his throat.

Then, to Thorin: "Never knew female dwarves had beards, too. Maybe the surface ones at home shave."

[dwarvenswagger]

"...are they in mourning?" Look, he was prince of the Longbeards. It was right in the name.

"He's back up, no need to lay down to join him."

[doesnotkneel]

"I'm not talking to you no more," Edward said, as the bartender put down more rum, studied them both, and seemed to come to some kind of conclusion about the state of their drunkenness. "Shouldn't have walked out of a wager scared."

[not_every_mage]

"But you have to talk to us," Anders said, wounded. "If you don't, we'll have to talk to the bartender here. To" -- he studied the man's nametag for several seconds before the letters quit swimming -- "Alex."

Alex did not seem as though he wanted to be friends.

[dwarvenswagger]

"Master Alex would be a superior companion," Thorin added, causing the bartender to make a quick exit as far from them as possible.

[doesnotkneel]

"Master Alex hates you," Edward said with a snicker.

[not_every_mage]

"Master Alex," Anders declared with the wave of one hand, "has no taste."

[dwarvenswagger]

"And is still better than Master Kenway," Thorin added. Because reasons.

[doesnotkneel]

"You're drunk, mate," Edward said, forgetting all about his vow never to speak to Thorin again. "Have another!"

He was shoving more rum at Thorin. Of course he was.

[not_every_mage]

Anders giggled at that for some (drunk) reason and found a triangle of quesadilla to douse in sour cream. "Excellent idea, Edward."

[dwarvenswagger]

"Tamahhadi!" Thorin cheered, lifting his glass in a salute.