Missile chuckled, watching Bruce go to work. She sort of had half a mind to ask if they were hiring; it seemed like a fun time, never boring, never dull. She waved to the octopus cook in the back, laughing, and she turned her head, blinking at the strange woman who appeared. "...uh?" The flurry of gestures and strange slang the shark man and this... Ganti? spat out were confusing, some of it sounded like the gibberish people spoke in back on Earth, but this was apparently not as negative and insulting - Bruce and this girl and her bizarre companion seemed to be friends.

Oh, dear lord, what had she wandered into today?

She kept her arm over Pullo's shoulders, still rather concerned as she took in the strange animation of the building around her. One of the maids had started cleaning up the place and people had slowly begun to return, and she just shook her head, turning to watch people file in. "... uh." She shook her head and turned around, looking at Bruce with a weak smile. "Can I get half a Pan-Galactic Gargle-Blaster? Heavy on the lemon please. Something to just uh." She shook her head again. "I was in the gut of a shapeshifter today, I'd like to forget I did that." Her fingers played with the half-elf's hair gently as her hand moved up his back. 

One of the men from the table that had been annoying and noisy - well, in the near-silence of the bar, it had been annoying, and noisy - came over and Missile tensed up, listening to the words that came out of his mouth. Perhaps it was meant to sound pretty, but she'd spent enough time around Pullo that magic that wasn't half-bent by Chaos felt a little... wrong. "If I can make a suggestion, stranger," she said to the white-haired stranger, "don't get the cobbler. I insist."