A burly, sandy-haired man with a full, thick beard strolls into the tavern and approaches the bar, "Oi! Wha' a bloo'y messova dai this 'as been." The man mops his face with the palm of his hand, not because it's sweaty, but just to massage his face muscles as if he's got a bad headache. Those who've seen this man before quickly recognize him as the famous Varquat Wayne, owner of the Wayne's Ale, one of the leading suppliers of brew and spirits to the Hanged Man, "Moi d'liv'ry man jus' up'n pops'of wi'ou'evena warnin' or a 'Thank'ee.' Now oi foinds m'self lookin' fer 'elp ta make moi pickups." He shakes his head, "Th'man'i'th'back says ya go' a tun 'ere in th'fron' th's narly emtee. Tha' roit?"
"Yes Mr. Wayne, I've got one right here." The bartender pats the side of a large man-sized keg behind the bar, "It's only got about a pint-and-a-half left. You want to pick it up anyway?"
"No sense i'lettin' goo' beer go ta waste Oi says." Wayne reaches over the bar and grabs a mug holding it forward. "Par m'a'biggun!"
The bartender takes the mug and fills it full, "There you go sir." After which he grabs another mug. Emptying the massive barrel dry, he places the second mug in line behind the first. "Where do you want the keg?"
"Ah. Pu'i'in'fronath'bar 'ere an' Oi'll bring th'carrage roun' fron' to car'i'of." He begins to run out the front door, but he notices the bartender looking at him questioningly, "Wha's it?"
"We're not exactly heavy on help here either." The bartender admits, "I don't mean to be a bother, but I'm going to need some help pulling the keg down. Would you mind if I asked for yours?"
Varquat's eyes shoot up in empathetic recognition, "Oi yes! Where're moi manners!" He scoots behind the bar, and the two of them hoist the keg off the rear counter top. Walking around to the front of the bar, they rotate it vertically and place it on end in front of the bar like some cheap bar stool. Varquat shakes the bartender's hand, "Oi'll be roit back." With that, he makes his way out the door.
On his way to the door something falls out of a back pocket of Varquat's trousers and lands on the floor with a clunk. It's a green pendant hanging on a golden, pearled necklace - an odd trinket for a man of Varquat's type to be carrying around. The bartender notices it, but doesn't wish to run after Varquat, knowing that he'll be right back, so he places the piece of jewelry on top of the keg. When he does, the front (or top at this point) to the keg detaches and falls into the empty keg, along with the necklace. The fat bartender scratches his head, shrugs, and walks back behind the bar.
[sblock=evilbob]OK. Let's see what you do with this one. Vague, I know. Think of it as a test. [/sblock]
