The night is dark and stormy and the door bangs open. A not so tall, not so dark but certainly handsome stranger comes in. The room grows quiet.
He strides up to the bar and perches on the edge of a stool. Looking at the barkeep he speaks "A double of your best Scotch on the rocks". His voice is a little hoarse and slightly annoying.
The ordered drink is placed gently in front of the stranger. Barely glancing at it, the man picks it up and downs it in one gulp.
Glass still in his hand the man slams his other hand down on the bar and lets out a strangled cough. Heavily breathing through his nose, he coughs again loudly, this time accompanying it with the sound of scattering ice cubes landing on the bar and floor. Another massive cough and it seems time slows as the stranger's mouth opens wide and a single cube springs out, glittering in the lights, a string of spittle twisting behind before it pin balls into a row of spirit bottles behind the bar.
The room is in shocked silence. The stranger gasps for breath and speaks again in a much hoarser voice "Well that experience pretty much sums up my Supercoach season - started out looking fancy but by the end I was trying not to chuck my guts up".
Gathering himself, he says "Sorry for the interruption all, this round is on me. Another drink please, make it a pint of Carlton and hold the ice."
Someone laughs and the room relaxs into discussion, the drinks flow and the night grows old filled with long stories and tall tales.
He strides up to the bar and perches on the edge of a stool. Looking at the barkeep he speaks "A double of your best Scotch on the rocks". His voice is a little hoarse and slightly annoying.
The ordered drink is placed gently in front of the stranger. Barely glancing at it, the man picks it up and downs it in one gulp.
Glass still in his hand the man slams his other hand down on the bar and lets out a strangled cough. Heavily breathing through his nose, he coughs again loudly, this time accompanying it with the sound of scattering ice cubes landing on the bar and floor. Another massive cough and it seems time slows as the stranger's mouth opens wide and a single cube springs out, glittering in the lights, a string of spittle twisting behind before it pin balls into a row of spirit bottles behind the bar.
The room is in shocked silence. The stranger gasps for breath and speaks again in a much hoarser voice "Well that experience pretty much sums up my Supercoach season - started out looking fancy but by the end I was trying not to chuck my guts up".
Gathering himself, he says "Sorry for the interruption all, this round is on me. Another drink please, make it a pint of Carlton and hold the ice."
Someone laughs and the room relaxs into discussion, the drinks flow and the night grows old filled with long stories and tall tales.