"And so then... And so then - Hoo!... So then I said to him, 'what do you mean, we're all out of gin? I put the order in last week!'"

The Niirborhood Tavern was alive with loud, hearty guffaws as Lucas Niir hit the four listeners with his punchline from behind the bar. Lucas, laughing with them, wiped away a tear, and continued washing a dirty glass. "Let me tell you something, Lucas, those jokes won't ever get old!" One of the listeners complimented. Lucas just shrugged. "It's my job to keep you folks happy and full. It looks like I've done a good job of both." Besides the four men, there were about two others sitting at two different tables. One cracked a grin at Lucas's joke, but the other stayed stoic, watching the door intently. "Hey, can I get you fine folks in the back anything?" Both looked back and denied the offer.

"You got anymore good jokes, Lucas? You know I come here just for 'em!" Lucas stepped back and placed the glass he was washing on the shelf behind him upside-down, next to a row of other sparkly clean glasses. "Sorry boys, maybe tomorrow," he responded. This was met with a chorus of moans and groans from his audience, and he waved them off like flies. "Oh come on now. I've got work to do. And hey, you guys best be getting some work in, too. These drinks ain't free, not by a long shot."