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Chapter Seven Blooper
Akar held up his stein, and the other men clattered theirs against his.
The five men leaned back, drinking deeply of the thick ale. Willowood burped loudly and patted his tummy.
“Ahhh, that was good!” Yarrow grunted, wiping off his chin and slamming his stein down on the table.
“Here, here, and schtuff!” Willowood slurred.
They clacked their steins and drank anew. Cane coughed a bit at the strength of it.
A black wisp of smoke floated by, giving little audible clicks as it counted them.
“Ya know, I scherved exprenshive schtuff like this to Lady Buck…bucksomething for two decades,” Willowood mused as he toddled from side to side, looking down into the heady foam. “I never thought I’d schbe drinking it myshelf.”
“He’s slurring a lot,” the Assistant Director whispered. “Should we keep going?”
“We have to,” the Director whispered back. “We’re almost out of film.
“What? You never snuck a sip when no one was watching?” Hollis asked, brushing aside a long strand of red hair.
Willowood’s eyes rolled back. “No, schnever. Lady Buckenheimer would have schloshed me. Slooshed me. Slopped meh!”
“Not even once?”
Willowood picked up his stein and drank again. “Thish is really strong stuff!”
Hollis looked at the Director for conformation. “Should I keep going?”
“Yes, blast it!”
Willowood glanced around, ale dribbling down his face. “Maybe onesh or twicsh.”
Akar slapped the older man on the shoulder. “Ahh, I knew it! I knew you weren’t as square as you feigned.”
“Can I get another round?”
Willowood fell back to the floor of the tavern and passed out.
“We’ve got a man down!”
As stagehands ran up to help Willowood, the Director covered his face. “This is a disaster.”
“Just what did you give him?”
“Give him? I didn’t give him anything. That is non-alcoholic ale.”