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	"Going Out in Style", 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." Through munching the muffin, Arthur slurs "Anyway, Joel. As I wuz sayin. Or gonna say. You're a friend of Wick. An Wick is ... Wick. So I figure we should bury the axe." and offers his hand

"Chug! Chug!" Lance shouts over at Ethan, despite the fact that cupcakes aren't for drinking. He tries to flag down a passing server. "Gimme something for the pretty lady," he says. "Something that will make her overlook how far out of my league she actually is." Whether or not a drink actually arrives is another matter. Meanwhile, he downs the rest of his own drink. "If the waiter doesn't come back with something good, it's not my fault," he assures Jade. Then he spots Hop. "Dude, wrong holiday!"

Wick turns up checking his phone to make sure he's got the right place. But the moment he catches Joel and a number of other familiar faces - including a fairly tipsy Arthur - his smile quirks and he puts his phone away. "Hello!" He offers those gathered a broad smile. "Hope I'm not too late."

Joel grins sharply at Arthur. "Always light. Never quite buoyant." He tosses back the rest of that Guinness, definitely not his first, and doesn't go towards those cupcakes. Instead, he motions Ethan towards them in indication. Arthur's words make him tilt his head. "Yeah, and just who the hell are you to Wick, bro?" He doesn't go for that hand quite yet, eyes narrowing warily. And there's Wick! He starts a little, muttering, "Speak of the devil. You made it, man. Who's this guy to you?" A hand waves lazily towards Arthur.

Hop will upend his backpack on the bar, since apparently someone is going to try to eat 22 cupcakes, a /ton/ of tupperware spills out just loaded with pastries and in between it all it basically streams a rainbow of candy, hershey kisses wrapped in every color. "What holiday?, they're green cupcakes, that counts, they're /wearing/ green!!" he nods and then adds, gesturing to the pile, "Anyone want a kiss?" he says with a side smile.

Jade clearly -- from her expression -- has no idea who Wick is. Who cares! She waves to him anyway, calling, "Happy St. Patrick's! Slainte!" Which, wonder of wonders, she actually knows how to pronounce correctly. With Lance having stepped up to actually order a drink for her, she beams sunnily at him, whether one eventually shows up or not. "My hero!" And kisses him on the cheek! Which surely has to count for more than six percent. Right?

Ethan is currently partially obscured, having occupied a booth around which people so inclined are chanting; they're up to 'fourteen, fourteen!' about now, and a harried server is bringing more slices of key lime pie to the fiasco. (The menu here did not include cupcakes, he will get around to those eventually.) Somewhere in there the 'at the same time' must have fallen by the wayside. Go and watch if you are likewise inclined, a couple of spectators have moved on, looking green themselves.

Lance beams brightly at Jade, even blushing a bit. "I live to serve!" He makes a big show of bowing to her, twirling his hand in a flourish. "Lance Keller, world renowned explorer and perfect gentleman, at your service." A drink does eventually show up for her, plus a fresh glass of green beer for him. "The rollerskates, dude," he tells Hop. "Everyone knows those are for the fourth of July."

Arthur returns Jade's toast with words sounding vaguely like 'isditsa hayn', raising his glass of green to her and then knocking it back, he then looks to Wick and "See what I mean about this town and synchoripity?"

Wick offers Jade a nod with a soft smile. "Happy St. Patrick's," he returns. And his smile quirks wider as he catches hat kiss she gives Lance. "Hi Lance." He can't help but grin as Hop produces an avalanche of baked goods and candies. His gaze lingers with interest, drifting across his features and lifting to his hair. But Joel captures his attention with that question - though he seems to catch him a bit off guard with it. "To me?" He glances up at Arthur and laughs with a nod. "Mm." He drifts over before glancing at Joel. "We're close. Getting to know each other better."

"She does," Joel tells Hop. "Get all that hot-shit makeup off her and we'll see if she really is a ten-plus beneath all that." Regardless of whether Jade is wearing any makeup. He stares at her for another long moment, still not entirely over her looks. But Ethan's eating draws his attention. "He's on fourteen," he tells the crowd, a little bewildered. "Fourteen... slices of pie? Jesus. He's gonna hurl before any of the rest of us, and here I thought he was a guy who could handle it." He angles himself that way, but then he looks a bit puzzled at Wick. "Seriously? You're shitting me." And he slips away from Wick at that, moving to watch Ethan inhale yet another key lime pie, at this rate, top hat sliding a bit on his head.

The redhead curtsies in response to Lance's bow. She doesn't really know how to do it very well, but she knows, or thinks she knows, that's what one does. "Jade Lambert. Um, not world-renowned for anything in particular, yet, but I'm still working on it. Nice to meet you." And hey! Wonder of wonders, her Irish Car Bomb actually arrives. She takes it, raises it to Lance, and then starts to drink it. And drink it. And drink it. And ... oh, it's gone. "Your turn!" she tells him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Is she wearing makeup? Enh, throw her in the ocean and find out.

Hop shakes his head at Lance, "No way man, wheels are for anytime, help you go faster, gotta get where you're going lickedy-split, not that I gota any destination set right now, cuz they're also for fun." he nods and eats a piece of candy himself, and then another, and then starts handing them out to people at the bar, he looks to Joel, "Nah man, you can't volunteer anyone for kisses, what if they're allergic to chocolate and all that, I got lots of non chocolate stuff too, oh and non gluten stuff, um some non sugar stuff that tastes good anyway since I made it, duh, for the diabetics and stuff." he nods as he hops up onto a bar stool and orders a beer.

Lance looks over and gives Wick an exaggerated wave. "Hi, Wick! Ethan is eating like a delicate little bird, you should go watch." He beams at Jade, not seeming to even notice the quality of her curtsey. It's not like his bow was very good, for all the enthusiasm he had for it. "What?! That's a travesty. We should fix that immediately. Get your name in lights!" he says with a sweep of his hand... and then chugs the rest of his drink in a manner very unlike a delicate little bird. Also very unlike Ethan, since Ethan didn't start swaying after gulping down one cupcake, unlike Lance and his green swill.

Ethan has his moment in the sun, as the small crowd screams "twenty two" like they are losing their damned minds. And then dissipate as they are themselves hungry or nauseated by then. Ethan gets up from a table laden with dessert plates, and not a speck down his front, washing everything down with a green beer and giving money to the poor server. "Thanks," he says and manages not to aim the punctuating belch at the person's face, turning to go find out what everyone else is doing.

"Goddammit, Ethan. I had the 'over' bet." Joel is a little disappointed, pulling an animated frown at Ethan. And as clear as his voice is, his posture is starting to slouch a little. He blinks, to clear his vision from some sudden muddiness, reaching out for a barstool. The hat topples onto the ground, sparkly cardboard shining for a second before he swoops in to grab it and pick it up. "Oops. Hey, you, with the shamrocks." He means Lance, but that doesn't really narrow down the crowd much, as more than a couple people turn to look his way. "I lost the bet. What was your call for it?"