Moira Kentigearna gave an amused shake of her head, long red tresses flying. She spoke sotto voce to herself...
"Well, bleedin' Briget, Gaia, 'n Eris, who opened the floodgates from County Cork? Or did someone forget t' mark our calendars fer St. Paddy's Day?"
She strode purposely over to the corner table, where a bemused figure wearing a battered fedora sat amidst a pile of ancient paper books and empty Bushmill's shooters.. She placed her hands on mature but shapely hips and stared at the man a moment before reaching out and flicking him smartly on the bridge of his ported and bored nose..
"McCool, ya cad, did you invite this mob along? Even if ye didn't, it's time ye got up and fulfilled yer duty as our resident alcoholic Bard, eh? Either give these blokes one o' yer confusin' poems, or plan on payin' me a good sum o' rent fer that table, Fin!"
She followed this pronouncement by reaching out her other hand, pinching Fin's cheek so hard that tears came to his eyes. She then moved on to greet the flood of Molly Republic guests who had suddenly "discovered" Hope's Haven right in their own back yard.
"Well, welcome lads! It's bleedin' amazin' what fun can be had once ye're not convinced that you should be killin' yer neighbors, eh? Now tell me truly.. do I look like a bleedin' hippy terrorist?"