Against the backdrop of people in various states of inebriation, we see our hero, Doctor Devious! He sits in this bizarre foreign territory, the bar stool actually at the bar.
While he remains sitting, he stands on the edge of all manner of mental torment, the weight of his lack of achievement across his life ready to snap the precarious branch he find himself on. Thoughts like "Why keep going?" cross his mind. That and ". . . I am better than all of these short sighted fools!" although this thought carries a sharp pang of pain each time it arrives; the contrast with reality being far too stark to bear.
He sits motionless, his arm out like an idiot, holding a pose that he has no idea if it even translates into the "real world" hoping that just like those movies, a drink will come to him and magically let him simply stop thinking about these things.
"This isn't too much to ask, I deserve at least this . . ." be begins to argue with himself, in his head.
This is not the case.
The bartender is currently dealing with another patron, and Benny is forced to eventually look up from the bar table. He sees yet another point where he is being ignored. His internal conversation continues "Everyone ignores me . . . until I make them notice me.Right? Right . . ."
"I wonder . . .perhaps. . . I need to be more forceful." his little id tells him.
"Hey, uhh . . . hey,hey!" he finally works up to shouting at the bartender. The bartender comes quickly, hearing the sound of a patron who is yelling but apparently not drunk yet.
"Listen, you bartonic excuse for a . . . whatever. Grab a glass, fill it. Hand it to me. Do it now." He points behind the man, at the liquor, then points to the glasses as though he needed to narrate the point as he spoke. Each command coming to a full stop, taking a small pause, and Benny gets a smile a little wider with each command.
The bartender does as asked, annoyed at the rude conduct of this particular patron and also [partially worried that the man might be a little bit prone to violence. This strange man in a lab coat, a stranger who seems to think he owns the place. Handing the clear drink back over to the stranger in a labcoat, he scoffs and mentions a credit price with a little smirk, like it was revenge against the man.
"Wow, that much huh? Well . . . I'm on -that- tab, just charge Achille's tab, do you understand?
The bartender nods. "Ah, yes sir." he says, not certain if he is telling the truth, but well aware that Achille would be the one to deal with it if this guy was lying anyway.
Benny takes a sip of his victory, coughing a bit since he is not used to alcohol.
"That was so easy . . . so, so easy . . ." he says lightly, as he lets out a relaxed sigh.
