2020-03-17: Whiskey in the Jar

Whiskey in the Jar
One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.
IC Date	March 17, 2020
IC Time	5 PM-???
Players	Arthur, Ethan, Hop, Jade, Joel, Lance, Wick
Location	Margaritaville
Prp/Tp	N/A
Theme Song	"Barroom Hero", Dropkick Murphys

Sceneset: The pub crawl has been going on for a little while now, having shifted to Margaritaville from another nearby tourist pub. There's a crowd of a few dozen, coming and going, and in them, Joel unsurprisingly seems to be leading the charge towards inebriation, Guinness in hand and a ridiculous Lucky Charms leprechaun top hat on his head. At least he hasn't affected a terrible accent. He's not a very imposing presence through physicality, but he's flashy enough to get noticed, and old enough to not get carded. The combination of the two seems to have gotten him some drunken regard from his compatriots.

Tourists abound here at Margaritaville, most getting drunk too, making terrible jokes about lost shakers of salt. The beer is Guinness; the drinks are Midori for the color or the oh-so-respectfully named Irish Car Bombs, and whoever's not wearing green gets looked at funny for a second or two. Welcome to St. Patrick's Day in tourist hell.

Lance does, in fact, get carded. But after a little song and dance with the bartender - literally, he does a little tap dance without tap shoes, in an attempt to impress the guy - he produces a card and is promptly given access to as much alcohol as he could possibly want. He's also wearing a green shirt, a pin that says "I'm not Irish but kiss me anyway," and a pair of sparkly shamrock antennae.

Ethan just happens to have on a green t-shirt with 'Kiss My Ass, it's Irish' instead of his usual plain black. He's carded but legal. For once he's not head of the pack in drinking, but by God he's second-in-command. Louder than Joel, but definitely willing to let some other asshole--- um, someone else-- take center stage, he's in on every chant and matches any drink or shot posed to him. No, every single one. Curdled Car Bombs are apparently his specialty, but at one point he gets dared to drink out of the bar's drip tray. And does it.

Sometimes you just want to kick back a little, and some days you want to kick back a /lot/. St. Pat's is one of those days that's better suited to the latter. And Jade is very much getting into the spirit of things! She's got one of those ridiculous big green top hats to put her in the spirit of things, and, well, ginger. People assume she's Irish by default. And she is one hundred percent determined to have a hell of a time. Drink? Yes please! Doesn't matter what kind, the answer is always the same, and -- let's face it -- she doesn't have to buy any for herself. Dance? For sure! Karaoke? Well, maybe. We'll see.

Lance, green beer in hand, takes this opportunity to hit on the pretty lady. "You know," he says, just walking right up to Jade, glittery shamrocks bobbling over his head. "My button is actually a lie. I'm really five point seven two percent Irish, according to my DNA test results."

The sound of wheels can be heard as Hop sliiiiides into view, he's got on his normal attire, plus all that green plastic shamrock jewelry everyone is throwing around, like he ran through a crowd and just let them bead bomb him, his backpack is on, and he stops by the group, taking a second to click in his Wheelie shoes, /like a responsible adult/ and then cram a clearly homemade green cupcake into his mouth, which he mostly totally finish in like two bites before saying, "Hola party people!" since they're in mexican joint, and he knows 'hola'.

"That near six percent is all in his junk," Joel leans over to chime in on what Lance says, althouh he stops and stares at the redhead for a long, long moment. He might be jawdropped. Ethan's drinking from the drip tray snaps him back, if rather unwillingly, and he stares. "What the fuck are you /doing/, man? Gross. Jesus. Shit." And then he looks back towards Jade. And takes a long, long sip of his Guinness. The Jimmy Buffett starts up then, and he groans aloud. "Jesus! It's /St Patrick's Day/! Can't we get some Dropkick Murphys in this damn place? Someone talk to them."

Arthur walks in off the street, already mildly buzzed from a couple of shots earlier at the Murder with some woman he met. Arthur blinks when he sees all the "Kiss me I'm Irish" t-shirts and badges and, more than once, stops to consider it before moving on. Half stumbling for a second, he puts his hand on the bar and says "Can I get something green and very alcoholic?"

Ethan takes a good moment to spot Hop, point accusatorily in his direction and say deafeningly "HEY!" and then in the stunned silence that follows, add "I can do THAT. Who wants to bet how many cupcakes I can eat at one time?!"

Give her credit: Jade takes this entirely in stride. (She'd certainly be s**t out of luck if she didn't, wouldn't she?). She laughs at Lance's remark, and then again at Joel's, shaking her head. "So what you're saying," she summarizes -- well, kind of -- "is that I should give him a six percent kiss, but on the junk? You haven't even bought me a drink yet!" It's unclear which of the two she means by this. Judging by her behavior so far, 'both' is entirely possible.

Arthur feigns offense and says, in a mock accusatory tone "Him dude. You can do *him*. Not that."

Lance feigns shock at Joel's words. "Sir, I am a gentleman," he says, putting his free hand over his heart. "I would never have said anything so crude to the lovely lady." Which is immediately followed by him looking to Ethan. "Twenty two!" he yells. Back to Jade. "May I remedy that?"

"Yes," Joel tells Jade, heedless of whatever she might actually be saying. He eyes Ethan, raising his brows. "I'll take the over of twenty-two," he's quick to bet against Lance. Hop's arrival earns a grin, if unfamiliar, and he leans an arm on the bar, blinking slightly. "Are you... are you on roller skates? Wait, no." He scans the younger guy. "Wheelies? What are you, twelve?" He jabs a thumb at the fellow, before he looks back towards the bar, swigging his Guinness. Still no Dropkick Murphys, and he's about to yell at it, before Arthur swims into his view. "Hey. You not having a ceilidh at your own place to ban me from?"

Arthur says, “Jesus you're a fucking cunt-cunt-contakerous prick arentcha. Liven the fuck up. It's Paddy's day."”

Ethan gives a determined two thumbs up and finds a place where anyone interested can watch him stuff his face and cheer and keep count. It's not a big audience, but some people are that into their cups already, and someone found something for him to eat.

Hop blinks a bit, "I miiight have twenty two more on me?" he looks backwards at his backpack, "They'd help you keep the liquor down too, they're banana and fennel, which sounds gross, but I made them so they're bangin'." he nods like no truer words were ever spoken. He sees that Arthur is already a bit stumbly so he walks over to offer him a scientifically designed no-barf pastry. "Here man, on the house, well I don't own a house, but that's what people say, ya? I'm Hop, have a cupcake, they'll help, and they're good." he turns to Joel, "Nah, the opposite, 21! Can drink, though being 12 was fun too, no work, not that I work." he shrugs.

"Okay!" Jade says, cheerfully, and it is entirely unclear what she's agreeing too, or if she even knows herself. But she somewhat spoils the suspense by telling Lance, "Sure, if you want to! Don't even need to ask, really. You can pick!" Which is, like, just /asking/ for trouble. If, somehow, she weren't already. "Twenty-two, huh? I don't think I could eat that many in a /day/, much less at one sitting.

Arthur eats whatever was handed to him nodding "Oh, man. These are fucking awesome."