Doctor Devious stomps back into the bar, a new datapad in hand. He makes his way to the bar and, still occasionally muttering things as he looks around the room at the various occupants. He finds an empty stool at the bar, trying to sit a few with his coat getting in the way each time. He grabs his coat so that the third time, he can actually manage to take a seat at the bar. He puts this datapad face down on the table, and takes his gloves off, setting them on the datapad.
Sitting at the bar, he looks around, realizing that in all his life he has never even bothered to read about anything more than the medical effects of alcohol. "What to pick?" and "How do I pronounce that?" abounds in his mind as he tried to figure out what exactly to say.
"Why?" he asks himself, with no context given to the outside world.
He looks around to try to find out where the bartender is, and places his head down on the table. He makes a motion with his hand that he saw in a movie once, trying to signal 'someone' for a drink. All the while, deathly hoping that nobody actually asks him 'what' he wants to drink.
